Reunion: The Rejoining
by StarTrekFanWriter
Summary: Pre-Movie: After 7 months apart Nyota & Spock reunite on an alien world. Sometimes getting back together can be a touch awkward. Interspecies culture clashes are fun! Stands alone but follows The Vulcan chronologically.
1. Transit

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pike, Number One, Spock or Nyota**

Although chronologically this follows "Descartes Error" (S/U) origins and "The Vulcan" I've attempted to write it as a standalone piece. Events in these previous stories may be mentioned, but not without explanation.

Special Thanks to Beta Notes from the Classroom

**Transit**

There were seven hours, forty-three minutes and nineteen seconds before Spock would see Nyota again. Taking a deep breath, Spock focused on the game...or more precisely, on his opponent.

Number One's slender arm reached out and grasped the chess piece. She lifted it and Spock saw it tremble slightly in her hands. His eyes flicked to Pike...the older man's eyes met his.

Number One was getting much better. She had some hair on her head now. They were in her quarters and she wore pajamas, but she was sitting in a chair, not lying a bed. She'd put on a little more weight. And this was the longest she'd been able to play chess since Spock had come back from Epsilon 1235.

Number One and Engineer McSpadden had saved the Farragut but had taken in over 18 Gyi of radiation. Doctor Puri was calling it a miracle they were both still alive. Survival after that dosage was only 50%, even in this century.

Number One set the piece down on the board too heavily and knocked several pieces to the side.

"Okay, young lady," Pike said. "You've had enough."

"Goddamn you," Number One said, staring at the board. Her body swayed dangerously. "Must you be so condescending!"

Pike smiled, "When you behave like a child...yes. You should have stopped playing fifteen minutes ago."

Number One made a low noise in her throat.

Spock hadn't quite decided if he found her constant pushing of her limits an admirable quality -- how could one improve otherwise? Or infuriatingly illogical. It seemed one could test one's limits slightly less.

Pike looked at Spock and nodded...There was a routine to these games and this was Spock's cue. "It occurs to me that I could use this time to prepare for my shore leave..." he said, rising to his feet. It wasn't a lie...Spock had been getting a lot of practice at prevarication -- he could use this time to prepare...but he did not _need_ this time to prepare...

"Anxious to leave, Spock?" asked Number One, with a raised eyebrow.

Spock raised an eyebrow in return. Actually...he was, need or not.

"We're not going anywhere until you get into bed," said Pike.

This was also part of the routine.

Number One said something in Klingon that a few weeks ago would have made Spock blush. Now, however, he was inured.

Pushing herself up with her hands, Number One stood up and made her way to the bed. Pike and Spock followed a pace behind her on either side...the last two games she'd managed to make it back on her own but...

Number One began to sink, the movement so fluid that it was like she was melting. Before she fell to the ground, Spock and Pike were both underneath an arm...her hand briefly touched Spock's and he felt flickers of emotions and sensations by now familiar.._.frustration...irritation...exhaustion..._

Spock blinked...she was getting better.

"Dammit. I hate this!" said Number One.

"I did not sense the urge to vomit," said Spock. "I believe you are recovering."

"Sorry, Spock... Didn't mean to touch your hand," she mumbled as they carried her to the bed, her feet barely touching the ground now.

"It is quite alright." And it was. Her feelings were much easier to deal with than the ones he'd picked up from Nurse Chapel when she'd given him his mandatory birth control hypo last week....Spock restrained a shudder.

Moving away as Pike helped her maneuver into bed, Spock watched Number One's eyelids sink and Pike pull the covers up to her chin. The Captain stared down at her for too long; even Spock recognized it as an affectionate gaze...or something more. Sometimes he wondered if he were here to play chess or to be a chaperon.

Spock checked his internal clock. Seven more hours, twenty-nine minutes, forty-three seconds...Enough time to sleep, meditate, grab breakfast, transport planet side, pick up the rented hover car and meet Nyota at the transport station. Actually, if he left now he could get there early--

"Captain?" he said quietly, putting his hands behind his back.

"What?" Pike looked up at him. "Oh, yeah...let's go..."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"Yes, the Tillal'a'ha, the native sentient species of Altair 25, were a pre-warp society when they joined the Federation...about where Earth was around the 1980's, no internet, basic computers. The Federation gave them the option of joining because they're close to the neutral zone and there was intelligence that the Klingons were thinking of invading," responded Nyota.

"Wow, you're so smart. How did you know all that?" asked Raina, the girl in the seat next to her.

Nyota felt a little embarrassed, for herself and for her companion. This girl and her friend went to Oxford?

Nyota tapped her PADD, currently displaying the _Time Out Guide to Altair 25_. "I read the first chapter of the guide," said Nyota.

"It's so sad that the natural development of the society was interrupted," said Raina's companion, Gena. "And did they have to put a Starfleet base on the planet? They are completely destroying the native culture."

"The Federation and Starfleet have worked hard to honor the native culture of the Tillal'a'ha...and actually, the Tillal'a'ha themselves view the Federation's arrival as a natural process in what they call 'The Rejoining'....they believe the only constant is change. If there ever was a society ready to be fast-forwarded into the twenty-third century, it's them. Klingons would have completely devastated the culture," said Nyota, trying to sound as inoffensive as possible.

Raina looked at her for a long moment and then said, "I don't think the Klingons would have actually invaded. They haven't been truly aggressive for years..."

Nyota's jaw dropped. "Haven't you heard about Epsilon 1235?"

"Those were rogue Klingons...and besides, most of that is just rumors...I don't think twenty-five-thousand humans really died..." said Gena.

"And anyway," said Raina, "humans were attacking Klingon clanships...so, of course, they would retaliate."

"I don't think," Nyota said struggling to keep her voice calm, "that the humans on Epsilon 1235 were responsible for attacking Klingon clanships."

She was ignored.

"I think it's just a Federation excuse to have a base in a strategic location," said Raina.

Nyota stared at the two girls. She couldn't really tell them about her work in the sensory array lab at Starfleet Academy...

Just then the captain's voice came on. "We will be approaching Altair 25's Equatorial Island Chains in thirty-three minutes. If your final destination is Starfleet Base, the Olin'ari' and Fanozinia Ruins, City of T'illal, please report to your scheduled shuttle..."

Nyota swallowed. She was almost there. She felt a smile slipping over her features; her body felt like it was literally vibrating...she was happy and nervous and anxious and ecstatic...she took a deep breath...

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Spock stood just outside of customs, surrounded by a full spectrum of hominid greetings.

There were a few Vulcans sprinkled in the crowd, greeting relatives with nods and quick, nearly imperceptible finger touches.

And then there were the natives of Altair 25 themselves, the Tillal'a'hans. They were humanoid, with skin the color of sandstone, pointed ears higher and more delicate than a Vulcan's, and heads of white hair.

Their standard greeting was to push their bodies together, press both their hands to the hands of the other -- palms and all five fingers on each hand completely touching -- then to touch their cheeks together, one long lingering touch upon each side. From a Vulcan touch telepath's perspective, especially one attuned to the touch of hands and fingertips, it was an incredibly intimate gesture on public display.

The Tillal'a'hans' greetings almost made the human embraces, kisses and handshakes seem rather restrained in comparison...but...

Putting his hands behind his back, Spock remembered when he'd arrived in Nairobi. Nyota had almost hugged him...he'd drawn back instinctively. He understood the sentiment behind her gesture, but the thought of an embrace in public was still...too much...the idea made him feel vulnerable. Exposed.

Where was Nyota?

Her shuttle had landed fifteen minutes ago...he gazed through the doors separating him from customs. The lines were long. It was the perfect time to visit Altair 25's Equatorial Islands...

And then he saw her through the glass doors, hair drawn up in a neat pony tail, wearing a long white dress and sandals, sweater wrapped around her waist. She wasn't looking in his direction; her eyebrows were drawn slightly together. She had only two bags, both rolling behind her, one on top of the other. How very efficient; there would be no trip to the baggage claim area...but she seemed to be sagging under their weight. He tilted his head. Altair 25's gravitational pull was only seven-eighths that of earth...how had she managed on her own planet?

Nyota's gaze met his. She smiled wide and quickened her pace...he tilted his head. It almost felt as though his heartbeat was aligning to her steps.

At exactly .75 meters in front of him she stopped. Her smile got a little less broad. She bit her bottom lip and inclined her head.

"Nyota," he whispered.

"Spock," she replied, looking up at him, her eyes moist.

The moment seemed to hang in the air. He took in Nyota's mocha skin, her wide eyes...he had once heard a human in his department describe Nyota as being doe-eyed. He supposed the comparison was apt -- although her personality was hardly timid. She could be absolutely fierce in her convictions...in bed...

Her face was different than he remembered, maybe because so many of his memories were now of her face on a subspace comm screen? She looked more alive, her skin tone was more vivid, but...her cheeks were gaunter than when he left, and between her brows now, ever so faint, were two creases. These were new. He had not seen them over the comm…

She was his. She was the woman he was almost bonded with. He knew if he could embrace her as the humans around him were doing, she would be overjoyed...and yet, when he thought of doing so, his arms felt like they were made of lead. Like they didn't belong to him and he could not control them, as though they had some will of their own and would not deign to budge from behind his back for such a gesture.

So he tried to give them something to do. He nodded. "May I take your bags, Nyota?"

"Oh, yes, thank you," she stammered.

Spock wheeled them behind him, pointed down the hall, and said, "This way; the hover isn't far."

"Oh, great," she fell into step at his side, looking ahead.

The greeting was inadequate.

Weren't they, for all intents and purposes, bonded? Something existed. What had the Vulcan Gray Guardsman, Novasch, said? It was a bond that was incomplete...but...

He looked down at her; she was staring straight ahead.

Gently reaching out with his free hand, he brought his index and middle fingers to her own. As soon as he touched her cool skin, she looked up at him and beamed.

Spock felt...like he was home...It was if he had been parched with thirst but hadn't realized his need until he'd taken a sip of water, and now that that cool sip was rolling through his body, he needed more.

It was such a tiny touch that emotional transference was limited, but...he felt..._happiness_...hers. Clearly. He echoed. She bit her lip as she looked up at him, still smiling.

They were in a terminal bustling with hominids of many species; the logical part of Spock's mind knew this. But another part felt like they were completely alone.

**A/N:**

I published another chapter of "The Devil Likes Chocolate" on Thanksgiving...just fun, per the usual. Find out why Toshi is a bad boy...

Thanks for reading to the bottom of the page. If you've got the time I'd really like to hear from you. Reviews are the only way fanfiction authors and our beta's get paid...so if you were mildly entertained please review!


	2. Out of Sync

**Disclaimer: I don't own Spock or Nyota**

Special Thanks to Beta Notes from the Classroom

**Out of Sync**

Just before they exited the terminal, Spock felt Nyota's happiness change to _wonder_.

"They're beautiful," she said, her head turned in the direction of some of the Tillal'a'hans.

Thinking on it, he supposed they possessed traits that humans would find aesthetically pleasing. Their sandstone-colored faces were very human and symmetrical with small noses and wide eyes. The slightly lighter gravitational pull of Altair 25 made them tall and slender.

These traits in his mind were overshadowed by one thing..."They are very...demonstrative," he said as a pair walked by them, arm-in-arm, hands locked together.

Some of his disquiet may have slipped through the link...Nyota laughed, which felt wonderful through his fingers. He resisted the urge to close his eyes and savor -- there would be plenty more laughter in the coming two weeks.

"You know, Spock, I don't think you have to worry. From what I've read, they are demonstrative only with close friends and family," Nyota said.

They stepped out into the Altair 25 afternoon -- sunny, 33 C, and although they were located near the Altair 25 ocean, a steady breeze kept the air from being humid.

"It's hot," said Nyota. Of course, she'd come directly from foggy San Francisco.

"I find it quite comfortable," Spock said, dropping her fingers to place her bags in the back of the rented hover. He focused on making all his motions deliberate...he was happy, excited, elated...but as long as he was in public, he would maintain his Vulcan calm.

Of course, as soon as he slipped into the private interior of the vehicle, everything was different. As soon as he shut the door behind him, he was reaching with both hands to her cool temples and pressing his forehead against hers. _Happiness_ slipped through his fingertips -- he almost purred. Their noses touched and she rolled her face down to kiss him.

It was perfect. Nyota was cool and slightly damp against him in a way not unpleasant at all. He wanted to drink her in. He kissed the sides of her mouth, caught her lower lip in his teeth, pulled ever so gently, and went back for more.

Through the link he felt...

_Happiness...desire...and love_...emotions so familiar and yet ever so faintly new...

Cool fingertips danced against the nape of his neck. She panted ever so slightly as he pulled back momentarily; her breath felt cool and wonderful against his cheek.

And then through the link he felt something else...

...the panting wasn't just for him.

Pulling back startled, he said, "You are overheating." He lifted a worried eyebrow, "And not in the pleasant metaphorical sense."

In his haste he'd forgotten her relatively low tolerance for heat. The hover had been sitting in the sun for an hour; it was nearly 73 C inside...too warm for her, but manageable, even pleasant for short periods of time...for him.

She closed her eyes and laughed. The vibrations felt wonderful through his fingers but faded dangerously at the end. "I don't want to stop!" she said.

"We have time," he said. This wasn't a subspace call limited to twenty minutes.

"Not enough..." Nyota murmured.

Spock did not want to think about that. Dropping his hands from her forehead he said, "Even less if you fall unconscious." Nyota lowered her head to his shoulder and he opened the windows and started the engine.

People could see in now...His body stiffened almost against his will. She must have felt it because she pulled away -- and his body relaxed immediately.

"My Spock," she said. Focused on the controls he couldn't see her expression, nor could he read the inflection in her voice.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

The beach house Spock had acquired for them was close to a main thorough fare. He said there were reliable shuttles to the base that ran every twenty minutes or so -- many of the local inhabitants were employed as service people by Starfleet.

Set back behind a screen of native trees, it was quite private, though. Nyota stared at the foliage. A similar environment had made the native plants similar in shape to the tropical trees of Earth but...

"I never expected them to be so purple," Nyota said as she climbed the steps of their abode. She hardly noticed the house...she was transfixed by the local vegetation. The hues ranged from deep purple to red and occasionally blue.

"The vegetation contains high amounts of anthocyanin pigments, as do Terran Japanese maples and Blue Colorado Spruce," Spock explained.

Dimly she was aware of him opening the front door. Nyota stared fascinated at her surroundings. The ground was the color of an orange milkshake...the sky was blue, but the few clouds were tinted with pink...The reflections of the purple landscape perhaps?

Suddenly two large hands had her by the waist and were spinning her around. Spock held her gaze for a long moment and then tilted his head, picked her up without even pressing her body to his and carried her into the house as easily as he would have moved a lamp.

Startled, Nyota laughed. She'd forgotten how strong he was.

His eyes never left hers as he gently set her down inside and kicked the old fashioned door shut with a foot. Suddenly his hands were drifting up her sides and his forehead was pushing against hers so hard she was backed against the wall. She felt in her belly the emotion that she called Vulcan love uncoil like a snake...his mouth on hers and his warm dry hands found her temples...and she knew _he_ felt...

Everything inside of her -- _love, happiness, excitement, desire..._

But...

"You want to slow down," Spock said moving his lips from hers and breathing hotly in her ear.

She didn't think she would have been able to say it aloud. She should want him right now, after so many months...shouldn't she? But her mind -- or was it her body, she wasn't sure -- was not cooperating. He was familiar...and a stranger all at once.

"Yes," she confessed.

She felt...a flicker of frustration and then...all emotion vanished. He was thinking -- running the situation through that analytical mind of his. And then a wave of pleasant satisfaction ran through the link. She caught her breath in surprise.

"A test of my Vulcan self control," Spock said.

Breathing out a laugh, she said, "Well, I'm glad you find it amusing."

"After some consideration, it occurs to me, that..." he nuzzled the round curve of her ear, "...proceeding without haste might prove more satisfying for both of us."

As he nipped gently at the bottom of her earlobe she actually began to feel like maybe she was ready.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

It wasn't unusual for her to be like this, after all. Although, it was, in Spock's mind, highly illogical.

In periods when they'd been separated by a week due to schedules, sometimes Nyota would be more hesitant to engage right away in the more intense physical aspects of their relationship.

He was ready to push her up against the wall, lift up her dress, and sink his teeth into the skin above her clavicles and...she was, he knew from past experiences, ready for gentle affection. Or as she would call it, "snuggling." He had long ago vowed to never say the word aloud.

Wouldn't it be far more logical after a long absence to want to consummate their relationship sooner, reestablish the deeper physical connection faster? Wasn't afterglow the best time for shared affection?

However...it was an ideal test of his self control. And there was a part of him that _liked _testing his self-control...and if he could test hers at the same time, all the better.

So...he slipped his fingers back against hers and they took a tour of the cabin. Spock actually had not seen it before -- he'd done all his research and purchases online. He'd spent the time since the Farragut arrived at Altair 25 working sixteen hour shifts so he could spend more time with Nyota when she arrived.

There was a porch in the back facing the beach which Nyota greatly admired. The inside of the house was modern, but comfortable, the holos had been a very accurate representation. There was a bedroom, bathroom, more than adequate kitchen, laundry cabinet, small dining area and living space.

"I could put my things away..." said Nyota.

Of course she was teasing him; he could feel it through the link. He sat down on the couch and pulled her down next to him, arranging her legs over his lap as he did.

He brought one hand to her temple. "So Nyota --" He ran a hand idly up her leg under her dress and felt a wave of arousal from her as he did. "I trust that everything has been well in the time since we last spoke."

He was falling into the rituals they had for these situations. They would engage in small talk, kiss, and touch one another until words were completely forgotten.

And then she hesitated...her mouth opened.

He stopped. From the link came _frustration...sadness..._

Everything was not well. He tilted his head.

She looked down. The small creases he'd noticed earlier between her brows deepened infinitesimally. "I can't hide anything while we're linked."

"What do you feel the need to hide?" Spock asked. Fortunately, they were linked and he wasn't worried that it had to do with him...

"It's nothing; it's just we caught a distress call in the sensory array lab right before I left...one of the ships that was retrieving survivors from the ion storm on Dilan 738..."

He felt sadness through the link, and then she shook her head. "There isn't anything I can do about it -- it just wasn't great being the first to hear the call."

There simply wasn't enough data for Spock to determine if her concern was warranted. And it would be illogical to lie. He scanned his mental databanks for a logical, yet appropriate, thing to say. He retrieved an expression used by his mother. "Do you wish to talk about it?"

"No," she said.

Spock inclined his head. That was normally his response, too. Very good.

He felt the _frustration_ mount...and something else.

_Determination..._

"How can I complain about hearing uncomfortable things on the sensory array when you're getting shot at?" Nyota asked, her brow furrowed.

Spock considered this. "It does not logically follow that anything I was experiencing would lessen the impact --"

"Let's not talk, Spock."

Her hands came to his face and she caught him in a fierce cool kiss.

He was quite happy to acquiesce.

Reaching up without separating their lips, he undid her high pony tail and ran his fingers through her hair, tugging ever so gently. Nyota slipped onto his lap so her thighs rested on either side of his and her core was pressed to his.

He let his hips buck upwards ever so slightly and she moaned.

Cool hands went under his shirt and caught his nipples between blunt nails. He heard himself let out a hiss.

Working his way down her back, he felt muscle, bone, and then softness...

_His._

As Nyota began to claw at his shirt he began to revaluate his earlier thoughts about the benefits of maintaining control. He was quite ready to bite her again...

Tugging at the shirt's hem, she commanded, "Lift your arms."

He did as he was told. Pulling his shirt over his head and down his arms she left him bound at the wrists. That was new. And pleasant. He looked down at his snared hands, breathed a ragged breath and felt himself go hot. Trapped…and yet not trapped…

They hadn't played much with bondage...he could see the allure...

Lifting his hips again he pressed himself more firmly against her in approval. And then he turned his head upwards prepared to lunge at Nyota and catch her in a kiss...or perhaps a light bite...

Only to see that her mouth was open, her eyes were wide; she was staring at his chest...and he was trapped in his shirt and had no idea what her expression meant. He thought it was a look of horror.

"Spock --" she said.

Ripping the shirt off his wrists, he brought his hands back up to her temples...

And immediately felt..._shock...fear..._

He went cold. He felt his arousal slipping away.

"What happened to you?" Nyota asked. No, that was more than an ask...it was a...

_Demand..._

And there was _fear...apprehension..._

Following her eyes he realized she was staring at the long green scar that ran across his chest.

He should have predicted it would upset her. He probed...he felt no disgust from her.

"Do not worry, Nyota. It is…was only a flesh wound," he moved his lips closer to hers.

"I asked what happened..." she said, eyes and lips not meeting his own. Her hand floated up and softly trailed the scar from end to end.

"There was a Klingon with a fire poker. He came up behind me; Ensign Singh was able to warn me in time to spare my life but..."

The fear increased across the link...

It suddenly occurred to Spock that it would have been a good time to lie.

He swallowed. "Really, Nyota, it was only a flesh wound..."

"They didn't have dermkits," she said quietly.

"Not immediately, no," said Spock.

Her eyes met his.

Spock tried to project calm through the link..."There were people whose injuries were worse than mine. We did not know when we would be rescued, and it seemed wise to conserve the medical supplies for those that truly needed it. By the time the Vulcan Defense Force arrived...There was much to be done, Nyota. Once I fulfilled my obligations to Starfleet, then contacted you and I..."

He blinked. "I fell asleep." He tilted his head...he had had a rather awkward awakening after that...he'd actually linked with Angel, the defacto leader of the colony after the invasion and owner of the house he had fallen asleep in -- and quite embarrassingly _spooned_ her. He swallowed. It had all been a misunderstanding...

"You're embarrassed," said Nyota.

Of the scar, no. But one topic at a time. "By the time I awoke, it was too late for a dermkit to prevent scarring...I did not see the point..."

Exhaling a soft cool breath, she pulled out of the link, planted a light kiss on his cheek and wrapped her hands around the back of his neck.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"Oh, Spock, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." she whispered.

He pulled her in, embraced her back.

They had both changed so much. She was different; Spock was, too. Not all in bad ways. She felt like she'd grown up a little in the past seven months.

Spock seemed...more confident. Nyota knew he loved his job as a science officer -- though he would quibble over the word love, of course.

There were so many secrets between them – while they were apart there just wasn't time enough to share them all. They'd been leading two separate lives.

"Why didn't you tell me, Spock?" Even as she said it she knew the answer.

"I did not wish to worry you," he said.

Of course. She banged a fist helplessly against his chest. "Did anything good happen on that back-water planet?" She'd almost lost him...how many times?

Spock gently pushed her out of the embrace and brought a hand to her temple. "Yes," he said softly. It was a simple word. Spoken softly and calmly. But through the link she could feel how emphatic he was on this point.

She stared at him. What could possibly have been good? There was the invasion. So many lost -- two of his own team, one of his hosts: Roland. She got the feeling he was important to Spock somehow.

And after the subsequent rescue by the Vulcan Defense Force, Spock had been forced into the role of cultural interpreter between the Vulcan rescuers and the colonists of Epsilon 1235. She knew he had hated that...and some of the things he'd mentioned about the Vulcans...Having to constantly explain human idioms and having to explain that the human speakers were not insane...over and over and over again...

She shook her head, confused. "What could possibly have been good?"

He looked down. Tilted his head. "After the rescue events unfolded in ways I did not foresee..." He almost sighed, "But I am a poor story teller..."

It was true. Spock could be quite witty. But when he told stories he had difficulty expressing his emotional responses to circumstances. It was like listening to a textbook read aloud.

She reached across the link...he was calm despite everything. He was waiting on her...her reaction...

She tried to broadcast _reassurance..._

He felt it and echoed it, and his eyes met hers. His lips quirked ever so slightly.

He was calm...

Nyota suddenly had an inspiration. There was one way more effective than any human means that they could catch up, really see the other's life...be in the other's life...

She dragged his hand down the front of her face, so that it was nearly in the position of the mind meld of their failed bonding. She was suddenly optimistic...the last time had been horrible...traumatic...but she'd seen inside him. Had been him.

Spock gasped and pulled his hand away, but she grabbed his wrist...

"Maybe bonding would be easier...if we practice first?" she asked.

Spock's eyes focused on his fingers. She brought them to her face. She suddenly had a sensation of _want_ in her belly.

He said softly, "It is too dangerous..."

"Come on, Spock. Last time was as bad as it could possibly get, and there was no lasting harm. And you were so angry then. You aren't now...

"Practice, Spock..." she whispered.

He licked his lips. "It is true that mind melds are not always as intense as the bonding..."

"Yes," she said encouragingly, pushing her face against his. Nyota noticed Spock's hand didn't leave her cheek.

She tried to focus all her thoughts on how much she wanted this, and on her faith in him. "It won't be like last time..." she murmured. "We're together...we're happy."

"You truly want this?" Spock asked.

"Yes." She _wanted_ this...she focused on broadcasting her want across the link.

His eyes were on hers; fingers danced across her cheeks. Every touch sent little flickers of..._hopefulness, apprehension, fear, joy, love_,_ longing..._

"Yes," she whispered. They needed to reconnect. Get back in sync.

His fingers came to rest at the same positions where they'd rested so many months ago. This time he didn't try to shield his emotions -- she felt them all pouring through the touch. He was _apprehensive_...but also filled with _happiness_ and _wonder_...

Nyota closed her eyes. She was happy, excited. This time it would work. "Its okay, Spock. Go ahead."

"My mind to your mind...My thoughts to your thoughts," he whispered.

**A/N:**

What do people mean when they say they want fluff? Is fluff just happy? Because there is some happy coming…but if it is romance as typically expected…no, not exactly. Is there a definition of fluff somewhere?

There will be a wee bit of angst/hurt (But a very small amount! Really!) Also, we've gotta deal w/ Nyota's sorta kinda bond. But mostly happy.

Thanks for reading everyone! If you enjoyed, please review. It's the only way, Notes, my beta and I get paid.


	3. The First Touch

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Spock, Nyota, Starfleet, or any random Vulcans

Special Thanks to Beta Notes from the Classroom!

**The First Touch**

It was like watching the sunrise in Africa in the height of summer, feeling the rays warm her as soon as they touched her face.

One minute they were two...and then Spock spilled into her mind like the sun.

_Nyota?_

She was dizzy, disoriented, happy all at once.

_Spock! What are you doing in here?_

She was joking...and, of course, since he was in her mind, he got it immediately. She felt the sense of pleasant satisfaction that passed for amusement in him.

_Very funny, Nyota._

He was being sarcastic.

_It was not _that _funny._

She laughed and felt a buzz...that buzz was what he felt when she laughed. It was delicious.

_Almost a narcotic_. His forehead touched hers. Or hers touched his. She was impossibly light on his lap. Cool.

In the real world their lips touched. She felt his dry heat and her cool moisture at once. His need, her desire…Nyota suddenly felt very dizzy...it was too much.

_Perhaps we can try that again later, Nyota..._

_Yes. Show me what happened on Epsilon 1235..._

Quick flashes of memories...feelings. Nyota saw faces and knew who they were instantly. Ensign Singh. Giotto. _Loyalty._ A Cardassian...Goldilocks. 3-D chess. _Respect._

A woman of African descent. Tall. Angel. _Reverence. _A man with pale skin and blond hair. Roland. _Sorrow, loss, admiration..._

Wait, he was familiar...where had she seen him before?

_Holo news vids, maybe, Nyota...perhaps he was in the news..._

A Vulcan with white eyes, white hair, gray robes...Novasch. _Fear. Anger._

Her head hurt. Her stomach started to do flip flops.

_Nyota, you hurt..._

_No...it's nothing...not like last time..._

He was confused._ Last time? I hurt you before, Nyota?_ _What happened_?

He saw...the headache that lasted for three days, the nausea...

_I hurt you..._

His anger ignited as easily as a match.

Her head throbbed...

_You hurt..._

Her stomach churned...

And suddenly it was like a light had gone out...And she was cold, gasping for breath, staring at Spock. His face was absolutely expressionless. She felt like there was a gong going off in her head. Opening her mouth to speak she realized she had to get to the bathroom quickly.

She didn't make it...A wastebasket in the bedroom had to do.

She heard a loud thud in the background. Spock was beyond angry...the thought sent her stomach through a new wave of convulsions. She knew he was mostly angry at himself...

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Spock let his fists fall on the cushions of the couch. One burst in a flurry of stuffing. He took a deep breath. Turned it over. Centered himself and tried to reign in his anger.

He had failed. Again.

Right now he had to be logical. He needed to fix this.

Following Nyota into the bedroom, Spock found her shaking on the floor. "I'll be alright in a minute," she said softly. "You can go. I know that your sense of smell is acute..."

The smell was unpleasant but...he put his hands behind his back. "After living in a forest for three days on Epsilon 1235 without adequate hygienic facilities, this is hardly offensive."

And it wasn't. There had been much worse things on Epsilon 1235...the smell of the blood of three species...sweat, fear, vomit...

"Well, there is one good thing that happened on that backwater, radiation dump planet," Nyota said, not meeting his gaze.

Spock tilted his head and looked down at her. "What do you require?"

"My toothbrush is in my bag. A glass of water..." She started to climb to her feet. He offered her his hand. Pulling herself up with his help, she said, "It isn't as bad as last time." She still had not looked at him.

Spock felt his anger rise. Although mostly he was angry at himself...he was also angry at her...perhaps for the first time ever. "Why didn't you tell me about last time, Nyota?"

Her eyes flashed over to him. With her free hand she slapped the scar on his chest. "For the same reason you didn't tell me about this!" She turned her eyes down, her fingers found his, and he felt her _irritation..._

"It's not like you could have done anything about it. I didn't want you to worry."

Spock's jaw clenched. "Touché."

She'd kept it all inside, to protect him. Unnecessary...still...

It was an odd moment to feel overwhelmed by love, but he did. Wrapping his free arm around her he pulled her in and dropped his forehead to hers.

"My Vulcan," he teased softly.

He felt another flash of _annoyance_ where their fingers were joined. "Humans can be stoic, too, you green-blooded son of a Vulcan and a _human._"

Spock felt a wave of pleasant satisfaction. He kissed the top of her head. "This I know."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

They lay down on the bed together, he on his back, Nyota on her side with her head pressed on his shoulder. He had his free hand on her temple. Stifling his own disquiet, he was trying to project peace and calm to help alleviate her headache.

"That's better," she said. She took a deep breath and exhaled. The coolness of her breath tickled his chest.

She was tired. Her head still hurt. He could feel it from his touch on her temple.

"Maybe," she sighed, "You can try and tell me about the good things on Epsilon 1235 the old-fashioned way..."

He knew she meant verbally, but he decided to tease her. "The structures responsible for telepathy in Vulcans are very old. Some reside in the brain stem -- as such the old-fashioned way..."

She slammed a hand down on his stomach. It was a familiar gesture that filled him with an odd contentment.

"You know what I mean..." she whispered. "Tease."

Spock took a deep breath. He was not a good storyteller. He swallowed. If it would make her feel better…

"At first, on Epsilon 1235 the Vulcans and the humans did not mix other than in a professional capacity and their interactions were quite...frustrating for me...I was called in to be the cultural interpreter on many occasions."

Nyota snickered. "I wish I could have seen that..."

"It was not as amusing as you would suppose..." Spock said.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

_"...on the other hand," the human engineer from Episolon 1235 said, facing the three Vulcan Defense Force engineers, "it might be better to..."_

_"Excuse us," one of the Vulcans said. "On the other hand?" All three sets of eyes trained on the human's hands. One looked up. "Lieutenant Commander Spock?"_

_Spock restrained his annoyance. "It is an idiom; in this case, it means 'however'."_

_"That is illogical," said one of the Vulcans. "The options being considered would hardly fit into a hand."_

_"Literal bastards, aren't you?" said the human._

_Spock closed his eyes and focused on remaining calm._

_"I assure you," said one of the Vulcans, "none of us are bastards. In fact, compared to humans..."_

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"Actually, Spock," Nyota said, "That was about as amusing I would have expected." The link buzzed with her suppressed laughter. "So how long did it take you to clear up that little misunderstanding?"

Spock's jaw clenched involuntarily at the memory. "Seventeen minutes and thirty-seven seconds...but...things did begin to change. As you heard, there were Klingons who went to ground and started waging guerrilla attacks. After our first engagement, some of the Vulcan defense force commented that the humans in our party fought admirably and were very disciplined..."

"Wow," Nyota said. "Coming from Vulcans, that is actually a rather big complement..." She let out a low breath. "Almost a confession of affection."

It was nice that he didn't have to explain these things to her.

"Indeed. They did complain that humans talked too much, though..." Spock tilted his head. "After that same incident, the humans in my team expressed similar, though not identical, sentiments..."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

_"Damn fine soldiers," said Giotto shaking his head and cleaning his phaser. "You should be proud of them, Lieutenant Commander."_

_"To be proud would be illogical," said Spock._

_Singh and Giotto both laughed. _

_"That is exactly what they would say," Singh said. "You know...they don't talk much...but I like them..."_

_Spock focused on cleaning his own weapon. _

_Singh added, "Did you know that Vulcan Kavack has a kid about my little girl's age?"_

_"No," said Spock. Nor did he care but..._

_"How did you learn this information?" Spock asked. What type of Vulcan talked about his family?_

_"Oh, I asked him if it was true that Vulcan children spent the first six months of their life in isolation tanks with only holo inputs for learning, you know, because Vulcans don't touch their kids -- want them to be independent and not form attachments and all that...After he dispelled that myth, one thing led to another," Singh said. _

_"I see," said Spock, too aghast at the idea of babies in isolation tanks to say anything more._

_Actually, Vulcans were very tactile with babies and children. The taboo against public touching did not extend to holding hands with a child. Vulcan parents constantly touched their babies' temples and fingers, and held hands -- or rather fingers, with their older children. And even strangers were permitted to touch a child's fingers -- as long as the action was initiated by the child. _

_These behaviors helped Vulcan children build their telepathic abilities. By age six or so, telepathy and familial bonds were firmly established and touch was no longer needed..._

_"And next thing you know, I was showing him baby pictures," said Singh. "But he doesn't have pictures of his kid, I guess because of the telepathy thing and the photographic memory...but he's going to get me some."_

_"What?" asked Spock, his voice with more inflection than he would have liked._

_Singh shrugged. "I said I was curious."_

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"Really?" asked Nyota. "Ensign Singh got a Vulcan to show him baby pictures? I think I like Ensign Singh..."

Through the link Spock felt...

_Admiration..._

He raised an eyebrow. Singh had saved his life...but the man's attempts to draw Spock into his private life were not appreciated.

"Well, you know what they say..." She shifted closer to him. "Some things are universal, like love of children."

"Indeed?" asked Spock. Actually he could think of at least one sentient water dwelling species that devoured some of their own eggs. Of course, when the eggs hatched to larvae the Alinans were quite caring…

"It's a Japanese saying I learned..." Nyota said. "I've heard that certain cultures aren't very child friendly, but my Mom has always said traveling with Jabari and me made it so much easier to make friends. Children give an opening for conversation."

Spock blinked. In the context of humans and Vulcans the concept of universal love for children was… "Fascinating..."

Nyota huffed out a small laugh.

"Remember, fascination tickles, Spock."

"Fascinating."

"Stop!" Nyota giggled. She took a deep breath. "I wouldn't think you would find anything that had to do with kids particularly interesting."

"Not before..." Spock conceded.

"So? What happened?" asked Nyota, _curiosity_ bubbling through the link...

Spock tilted his head. "I think, in retrospect it was not very surprising that the Vulcan Defense Force and Starfleet personnel should get along."

Nyota nodded against his shoulder. "Military cultures in all societies tend to emphasize discipline and group cooperation -- they need to if they're going to be effective."

"Indeed...but the civilians of Epsilon 1235 and the Vulcans did not get along well," Spock said.

"But they must have been grateful for the rescue?" said Nyota.

"They were. And they often attempted to show their gratitude by shaking hands and offering..." Spock hesitated. "...hugs."

"Oh, no."

"Oh, yes." Spock tilted his heads. "Of course, their overtures of thanks were spurned...the Vulcan soldiers would literally grab the humans by the wrists and push them away..."

"Uh-oh..."

Spock took a deep breath. "As a touch telepath, I understand their actions...But the end result was that Vulcans and humans began giving each other wide berths...Obviously, I understand the Vulcan motivation for self-protection, though I don't understand the human motivation..."

"They were insulted, Spock."

"Oh." He considered. "That makes sense. Angel described the relationship between the Vulcans and the human civilians as tense...but several events occurred that helped ameliorate the tension..."

"Such as?" Nyota asked..._curiosity_ positively flowing through the link now...

Spock blinked...this was not the evening he had anticipated...but...it was illogical to let his disappointment affect the moment he was in.

"It started..." he said, "with children..."

**A/N:**

If you were entertained, please leave a review! Reviews are the only way fanfiction authors and their beta's get paid. Plus, I don't let my beta Notes eat if I don't get reviews! (Really, it helps keep betas motivated and more honest.)


	4. Small Fascination

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pike, Number One, Spock or Nyota**

Special Thanks to Beta Notes from the Classroom

**Small Fascination**

_Vulcans did, contrary to common belief, occasionally go off duty. Spock was eating an early afternoon meal with five members of the Vulcan Defense Force, or as Ensign Singh referred to them, "Vulcan Grunts." They were eating Vulcan rations. As unappetizing as these rations were to the palate, they were very energy-dense and an efficient way to meet one's daily caloric requirements. And Spock was comfortable in the company of the Vulcan Defense Force members. They were quiet unless there was something that needed to be said -- logically. Spock found playing cultural interpreter to be exhausting work. He needed quiet._

_Sitting in comfortable silence on benches outside a half-built temporary shelter, he was somewhat surprised by an observation made by a Vulcan male to his left. "She looks like my youngest sister."_

_Spock looked up. About five meters away next to the open door of another shelter, there was a little human girl with long straight black hair, pale skin, and slightly Asian eyes. Spock wasn't particularly good at guessing human ages, but she was terribly small. He would have said she could be no more than five. Nor was Spock very good at reading human facial expressions...so her mood was completely mysterious to him._

_Humans walked along the path between the Vulcans and the little girl, oblivious to both._

_All of a sudden she ran across the walkway until she was only about a half meter from the Vulcan who had just spoken. The little girl looked up at the Vulcan. The Vulcan looked down at her._

_And then she did something very unexpected...to Spock, at least. She reached up with her hand._

_The gesture wasn't quite the same as a Vulcan child would make--she reached with all her fingers, not just two. The Vulcan in front of the little girl hesitated. Then he tilted his head...and to Spock's surprise, reached out with two fingers to the child._

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"Wait," said Nyota. "Vulcans can form empathic links with children who aren't their own?"

"As I mentioned before, if it is initiated by the child. It is morally praiseworthy, but not morally obligatory," Spock said.

He felt Nyota's_ confusion_ through his fingertips on her temples.

"It is all part of the child honing their telepathic skills," Spock explained. "Establishing contact with an other...as opposed to someone within the family group, can be quite educational for the child. Obviously, the emotions they will receive from an other will be quite different from what they receive from a family member -- and indeed may help strengthen familial bonds."

"Ahhh...because they would get love and affection from family members -- but not from strangers," said Nyota.

"Precisely. Mutual curiosity...indulgence...but not love," said Spock.

Nyota's brow furrowed. "But I thought Vulcans don't like forming empathic links with people they don't know. I thought it was disconcerting and uncomfortable..."

Across the link Spock felt more _confusion..._

"It is different with children, Nyota. Their emotions are less complex, more focused. It is not disorientating..."

"Wait, you never told me that before!" Nyota said.

Spock turned his head so he could look her directly in the eye. Her lips were so close...her cool body half on his. Through the link beneath her emotions, he still felt the pain of her headache -- and her slight nausea...

"Spock?" she asked.

He took a deep breath and centered to distance himself from her discomfort.

"I knew this intellectually, it is discussed. But I did not know from personal experience before..."

Nyota's eyes opened wider. "Tell me what happened!"

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

_"Fascinating," said the Vulcan._

_The little girl's eyes got wide. She squealed with laughter, turned and ran laughing into the open door of the shelter across the path. It was, Spock realized, what Nyota termed the Pavlovian Vulcan Giggle Effect..._

_"Fascinating!" said the Vulcan again, staring after the little girl. And then he Vulcan turned quickly to Spock. "Lieutenant Commander, have I hurt her?"_

_Spock blinked at the man. He supposed it was possible that a "Vulcan grunt" had never been exposed to human laughter. "No, you did not hurt her. That was laughter."_

_"Laughter," said another Vulcan grunt. "An expression or appearance of merriment or amusement. Merriment; cheerful or joyful gaiety..."_

_"She was not hurt, then. But why did she laugh?" another asked._

_"She was not hurt," Spock verified. "Our sensation of fascination does not quite have a human analog. It produces a pleasant sensation that invokes laughter."_

_"Look, more," said another grunt._

_Spock looked up. The little girl was staring at them from the open doorway; next to her were two more small children._

_"Fascinating, you say?" said one of the other Vulcan grunts._

_"Yes," said the first. "Her curiosity was almost identical to what I would expect from a Vulcan child...and that was fascinating. The laughter, however...was...much more fascinating. I am completely unable to quantify the experience."_

_An empathic link while a human laughed in true joy...had an almost narcotic effect on Spock. Judging by this Vulcan's reaction, Spock was not alone._

_The three children began to skip across the walkway towards the Vulcans, each holding up a hand, this time mimicking the gesture of the Vulcan -- two fingers only extended._

_Spock completely froze._

_Around him five Vulcan hands with two fingers outstretched shot up._

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Nyota laughed, and the sensation buzzed through Spock's fingers and caused a cascade of serotonin release in his brain. He didn't need to touch the fingers of strange human children. He had his own human...

"So you got over your mortification and touched a child's hand then?" Nyota leaned up quickly on an arm, breaking the link, and looked down at him. Then she scowled. "Ugh...no sudden movements."

She grabbed his hand and put it back on her temple. "Ah, that feels better."

Spock looked at her, concerned.

"Well?" she asked.

Spock eyed her suspiciously. She was trying to turn the conversation away from her own discomfort...

"Don't get all suspicious on me, Spock. I want you to keep distracting me. This is fascinating," Nyota said.

Spock relented. "I did not touch a child's hand right then...no..."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

_"What is going on here!" _

_Looking up, Spock saw a human woman with hands on hips, light brown hair in slight disarray, eyebrows knitted together. She was staring hard at the Vulcans. The children ran circles around her legs squealing and laughing -- then raced back to the Vulcans with fingers outstretched. _

_All the Vulcan eyes were on the woman...but they held their fingers up obligingly for the small humanoids._

_The woman was obviously angry even to Spock. But he wasn't sure the other Vulcans were aware. _

_It suddenly occurred to him that he might be in the center of another interspecies incident. Child raising mores varied greatly within human cultures. In some cultures a finger touch might be construed as...He stopped breathing for just a moment...._

_"Spock!" the woman said, eyes suddenly boring into him. "What in Hell's name is going on here?"_

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"Wait, how did she know your name?" Nyota asked.

"After I turned down the Vulcan Defense Force's offer to be transported off planet and instead remained to aid the colonists in what was apparent to all a losing battle, I became something of a..." Spock looked away and felt his ears grow warm, "...celebrity...

"The colonists erroneously believed the Vulcans would not have come to their aid if I had not remained...in actuality, the Vulcan Defense Force posed the offer to me so they could sidestep burdensome bureaucratic red tape. They would have come to the aid of the colony in any event..."

Nyota snorted. "Yes, but they'd have to had to petition Starfleet and the Federation for permission. That could have taken hours. Instead they just invoked Federation Code 130,034-a; the right to defend one's citizens in event of attack by hostiles if local agencies are unable...Very logical of them..."

Leaning forward, Nyota put a toothpaste scented kiss on his nose. "Very logical of you to refuse their offer, too, my Spock."

What a complimentary...loving...and thoroughly sexy thing to say. Spock felt parts of his anatomy other than his ears go warm.

She nudged him. "Keep telling the story..."

Restraining a sigh, Spock licked his lips.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

_He swallowed. All he needed at this moment was for one of the Vulcans to launch off on a diatribe about the illogical belief in the existence of a literal Hell...His eyes shifted to the side. Thankfully, now that the woman was not looking at them, the Vulcans were focused back on the small humans in front of him. He heard barely audible whispers of, "Fascinating."_

_"Your children are approaching them with hands outstretched...they are responding as they would to a Vulcan child..." Spock said._

_"This is how they treat children on Vulcan..." the woman's voice got loud she reached out and grabbed a child racing forward towards one of the Vulcan grunts. The child immediately started to cry and pull away. _

_The woman said with a hiss, "I thought Vulcan hands were..." _

_"They are not erogenous zones," Spock finished. He decided it wasn't the best time to go into the full explanation. Vulcan hands could be erogenous zones, but so could human hands given the appropriate circumstances. "It is a myth often ascribed to by humans..."_

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"What followed was a rather lengthy discussion of cross-cultural myths...most of which you already know...And an explanation of why Vulcans do not mind touching children's hands but find contact with strange adults...disquieting..." Spock's stomach flip flopped with the thought.

"In the end she gave us orders not to let them run out into the main road and to round them up in half an hour and bring them in for lunch...she muttered something about needing all the help she could get..."

"So then you started playing with the kids, too?" Nyota asked. Through the link Spock felt...

_Hopefulness..._

How inexplicable.

"No," he replied. "I was not certain that every parent would be so indulgent..." He tilted his head...indulgent of their children or of Vulcan curiosity?

"Not wishing to offend any other humans who might be watching, I decided to wait for an official edict on the matter..." Spock said.

_x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x_

_News of what was called Vulcan "finger tickles" became known. Some colonists were upset. Some were indifferent. Some were curious. In the end, after lengthy consultation between the Vulcan command, Angel, and a few concerned, curious parents, a rule was established._

_Vulcans would be allowed to form empathic finger links with human children only with the human parents' consent._

_However, it wasn't just the children of willing parents who wound up in "finger tickles." _

_It wasn't that the Vulcans didn't follow orders...Vulcans, especially Vulcan soldiers, were very good at following orders._

_Human children, on the other hand..._

_Spock was standing, hands behind his back, listening to a human and a Vulcan engineer discuss plans to outfit a Vulcan hover for agricultural purposes. He was so thoroughly engrossed in the conversation that he didn't hear the patter of small feet behind him._

_Suddenly he felt something light and cool on his fingers and was jolted by a sense of extreme..._

Happiness...anticipation...

_"Fascinating," said Spock, straightening involuntarily._

_Then there was the buzz of laughter through his fingers that was...very pure, somehow, in a way he hadn't experienced. Although it was illogical, Spock would have said that he could see the pleasure centers in his brain light up._

_Turning his head quickly, Spock met eyes with a small boy grinning up at him and giggling..._

_"Fascinating," said Spock again, the word rolling out of his mouth of its own accord._

_The little boy's smile got wider, and then he squealed and bolted away._

_x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x_

"Awww...I wish I could have been there to see that," Nyota said.

"The human engineer commented that the expression on my face was 'priceless'." He really needed to maintain better emotional control.

Nyota giggled...which was of course very pleasant, and made the admission of his shameful lack of control rather worth it.

"So...after that, things between the humans and Vulcans improved..."

Spock hesitated. "I saw many parents pull their children more tightly to them when they passed a group of Vulcans...But I did see others holding their childrens' free hands as the children reached out in curiosity..."

He tilted his head. "And I often saw the indulgent parents engage the Vulcans in conversation. From what little I overheard, it was mostly about child rearing...

"Nyota, these were not the Vulcans I grew up among. They were ordinary...not related to members of Vulcan High Command, not ones that would consider applying to the Vulcan Science Academy...and I am sure the humans were ordinary, too...And they seemed to...in some cases...get along."

He blinked. "I suppose, due to my experiences growing up, I did not think such mutual...appreciation...would occur to the extent that it did."

Nyota was quiet for a moment. She traced a finger on his chest. "You know...T'Lan, my Vulcan advisor, commented that you were a threat to the powers that be on Vulcan...Your existence and your success -- you are too smart for someone who is only half-Vulcan; in their opinion, you know, you're not supposed to be...it challenges so many beliefs...

"Beliefs that they need to maintain to justify their position of authority, maybe...Vulcan society is so rigid...But ordinary Vulcans, they don't have as much to lose -- they might have something to gain actually, in change."

She sighed. "I'm not being very coherent...But Tyback, you know, our analytically-gifted but memory-challenged friend..."

Spock raised an eyebrow. He wouldn't go so far to use the term friend. He'd helped Tyback, the provincial Vulcan, get accepted into Starfleet because the he was qualified despite having a memory that was poor -- even by human standards...

"He is getting along fine," Nyota said finger still making circles on his chest. "He has...friends...or at least humans who consider him a friend...Vulcans can be picky about the word..."

Her finger stopped. "I even hear he has a human girlfriend..."

Tyback was unbonded and would face Pon Farr in another year and a half...He had discussed the subject privately with Spock.

"He is motivated, Nyota," Spock said simply.

"You are not at all surprised?" Nyota asked.

Spock felt a slight wave of_ shock_ through the link.

Spock's eyebrow went up again. "A few weeks ago I might have been. But...there was...another incident on Epsilon 1235..."

_x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x_

**_A/N:_**

_I published a little more Novasch fun in "The Devil Likes Chocolate" this morning. Its just pure crack (I think thats the word, not sure?) If you're looking for the lighter side of an interrogator's psyche check it out.  
_

_I know, there are so many unanswered questions from the Vulcan...the quasi-bond they have for instance, and it seems like everyone is waiting for um...errr...you know. All good things in time...I just had so much fun writing this chapter and chapter five I couldn't stop myself. __If you need um...more "explicit romance" with a brain rightaway check out TalesFromtheSpockSide and EjectingtheCore -- both are excellent authors of that genre. In my Fave Authors._

_If you were entertained, pls leave a review. Its the only way fanfiction authors get paid._

_Thanks everyone for reading!_


	5. The Incident

**Disclaimer: I don't own Starfleet, Giotto, Spock, Nyota or any random Vulcans or Cardassians**

Special thanks to Beta Notes from the Classroom

**The Incident**

_Spock was tired. Ensign Singh, Giotto, an accompaniment of Vulcan grunts, and he had just returned from repairing a power station near the outskirts of the colony. They had been attacked halfway through the job...their Klingon attackers had been dispatched relatively easily with the help of air cover...but their repairs were delayed._

_By the time they finished their work, returned to the main camp, and debriefed the Vulcan Defense Force officers, it was dark. They'd been on their feet or in the dirt for over thirteen hours. _

_Walking to the communal mess hall through the main camp, Singh and Giotto were noticeably flagging. Spock and his fellow Vulcans were doing better, but..._

_Spock pricked up his ears...in the distance he heard a tune that sounded familiar, although he could not quite make it out. His fellow Vulcans lifted their heads._

_Just then he heard Commander T'Quilloc's voice to his right. "Lieutenant Commander Spock, halt!" Stopping short, Spock and his companions turned their heads. She and three Vulcan officers were running in their direction. _

_Spock immediately tensed; was there an attack? His hand went to his phaser._

_The Vulcan officers stopped within a meter of them. Commander T'Quiloc turned to the grunts. "Report directly to your quarters, now! Do not stop for any reason." _

_Without questioning her, they nodded and left. _

_Commander T'Quilloc turned to Spock. "Mr. Spock, I request your assistance and the assistance of your human officers."_

_"Certainly," said Spock, wondering what task humans would be more suitable for than Vulcans. He pulled out his phaser; Singh and Giotto started to do the same._

_"You will not need those, but we must run," she said. "Follow us."_

_They set out at a brisk pace towards the mess...as they got closer, Spock's eyes widened._

_It was. The. Song._

_The pre-Surak song that was supposed to be forgotten but that every Vulcan knew. Like the Terran "Greensleeves" and "London Bridge," despite all probability it existed and refused to die._

_He looked over at T'Quilloc._

_"Chocolate," she said. "They have ingested chocolate. Of course, they would not knowingly...but..."_

_Her voice was drowned out as they approached the mess hall by Vulcans singing in their native tongue._

"I will slide my knife across your stomach now -

Drink your blood from the chalice of your heart -

For she is mine and mine alone now...and never will we part!"

_Thankfully it was the last verse…and most humans did not speak Vulcan._

_"Sir, are those Vulcans...singing?" panted Ensign Singh._

_Spock didn't have time to answer before they crashed through the door. The mess hall was crowded with humans, obviously inebriated, and Vulcans...also obviously inebriated. _

_A Cardassian teenager with a platter appeared in front of Spock. On it cut up into bite-size portions were chocolate coated peanut bars...thoughtfully speared with toothpicks for hygienic consumption. _

_"Human emergency rations are much better tasting than Vulcan rations!" said Epsilon 1235's one and only Cardassian teen...Spock narrowed his eyes. Jedar. His father would not be pleased..._

_"Mr. Spock, T'Quilloc, Vulcan officers, help yourself," said a human teenager that Spock recognized as Peter. Spock had heard the colonists describe the two boys as 'partners in crime.' He had thought it had been a figure of speech..._

_Sadly, Spock was tempted. The smell of peanuts -- a Vulcan favorite, and chocolate...His mouth watered involuntarily and he licked his lips._

_T'Quilloc knocked the tray out of Jedar's hand..._

_"Uh-oh," said Peter._

_Spock jerked his head up. Other platters, loaded with chocolate appetizers and human alcoholic beverages, were being passed above the crowd._

_Spock turned to Ensign Giotto and Singh. "Get the trays. Do not let any Vulcans consume any more candy..."_

_Singh and Giotto darted off in different directions into the crowd. Spock was certain he heard them laughing. How unprofessional._

_"Assist them," shouted T'Quilloc to her officers._

_A familiar voice to his side caught Spock's attention._

_"What did you say?" asked Angel. She was shouting loud enough for Spock to hear it above the crowd. Spock spun his head to see her nearly nose to nose with a Vulcan officer..._

_"I said that hu...hu...humans...are incapable of...exper...exper...experiencing...true grief...I lost my bondmate...you would never...comp...comp...comprehend..."_

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"Oh, no...you told me Roland, Angel's husband, died..." Nyota said.

Through the link Spock felt _sorrow..._

"Yes," said Spock. He hadn't told her how much Angel reminded him of her. In appearance, yes, but more in attitude. Angel could be fierce and compassionate in equal measure...she was dedicated to her duty...and she loved her husband and he her. Even Spock had seen it.

And, of course, he had never been able to adequately explain how much he'd empathized with Roland when he had sacrificed his life to save his wife...and his people...

The link flared hot with _anger_.

"If something happened to you and some stupid Vulcan told me I didn't understand...I'd rip his lungs out..." Nyota hissed.

Spock turned his head and rolled his forehead against hers. How terribly illogical...and...romantic.

Yes, there were definitely similarities between the two women.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

_Angel let out a low moan that went to a cry of rage in a heartbeat. She lunged at the Vulcan's neck._

_Spock was going to intervene but was interrupted by T'Quilloc, grabbing him by the arm, pulling him forward and shouting, "Quick, over there...they are going to bond."_

_Following her gaze, Spock saw an attractive Vulcan female with her hands on a human male's psi points. The man was returning the gesture...he looked to be about thirty-five...his features were symmetrical. He looked like he was in decent physical shape -- most of the humans on Epsilon 1235 were..._

_Spock blinked. He recognized them. They were both engineers. He'd been called in to intervene during an argument the two had had about the origins of duct tape. Duct. Tape. And now..._

_"We must stop them...grab the man, I'll grab the woman."_

_Spock hurried forward with T'Quilloc._

_"My...my...my...mind..." said the Vulcan woman._

_"Desist, that is an order," said T'Quilloc. _

_The Vulcan woman did not move, but her lips stopped moving._

_"Huh?" said the man looking up. Spock grabbed him from behind and pulled him away from the Vulcan woman._

_Spinning the woman around by the arm, T'Quilloc began dragging her away._

_"T'Laia," said the man, reaching forward, straining against Spock's grasp. Spock thought about applying a Vulcan nerve pinch...but it seemed excessive..._

_"Sir," said Ensign Singh, "I think we got all the platters, but..."_

_A piece of chocolate bar sailed over Spock's head. A meter away a Vulcan jumped half a meter off the ground and caught it. In his mouth. He neatly spit out the accompanying toothpick. Around him several Vulcans roared. "More! More! More!"_

_Chocolate pieces began flying through the air from all around the room...Vulcans were hopping up and down to grab them with their teeth..._

_"...but there still seems to be some more...errr...appetizers...around..." Ensign Singh finished._

_T'Quilloc's voice rang above the crowd. "The Gray Guard...we must restrain them..."_

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"Who are the Gray Guard?" asked Nyota.

Spock swallowed and took a deep breath. "They work for Vulcan intelligence. They are hypersensitive telepaths. Unlike most Vulcans, they are true telepaths; they do not require physical contact."

They were interrogators...he did not wish to burden Nyota with this knowledge. If she knew, he might have to tell more...

"Oh," said Nyota.

Through the link he felt _curiosity. _

"Their exact function is not important to the rest of this story," Spock said.

"It gets better?" asked Nyota.

The link hummed with _eagerness..._

"I am not certain _better_ is the adjective I would use..." said Spock.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

_Spock watched T'Quilloc drop her hold on T'Laia and run out the door. T'Laia looked at the man Spock was holding and then walked out the door swaying slightly._

_There was a loud groaning noise from behind Spock._

_"Uh-oh," said Singh._

_Spinning around, Spock saw a group of seven Vulcans and eight humans climbing up on a table, arms over one another's shoulders..._

_The Vulcans began to sing. Humming along the humans swayed their beer mugs in time_...

"You say you did not know she is mine oh -

You did you not see the necklace of green

My marks around her neck oh -"

_...one human fell off the table, laughing furiously. Two more climbed up. The piece of furniture gave another loud groan..._

"Bonded since we were children yes -"

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Spock stopped. The next verse was _"Married and mated in the fires of Ponn Farr..."_

Nyota understood Vulcan. She would ask questions...

"Go on, I want to hear the rest of the song!" she said.

"The song ended almost right at that point, Nyota..." Technically this was true. The Vulcans had just finished singing the words Ponn Farr...

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

_There was a loud crash as the table gave way. Inebriated humans and Vulcans fell to the floor. There were moans..._

_Without thinking, Spock let go of the man he was holding and went forward to ascertain there were no serious injuries, Singh at his side..._

_"They all seem to be getting to their feet, sir," said Singh._

_Spock nodded...then saw the man he'd just been restraining heading for the door..._

_Spock's eyes scanned the room. Giotto was attempting to grab chocolate pieces as they were flung through the air...Spock decided to leave him to his efforts..._

_In another corner he saw Angel and the Vulcan she had been fighting. They were now sitting on a table, palms and foreheads pressed together...Well, at least they weren't fighting...or bonding..._

_A sudden thought occurred to him. _

_"Come quickly," he said to Singh, rushing towards the door._

_Running out into the night, Spock stopped short. Just a few meters outside the door were six Vulcan Gray Guardsmen, including Novasch. Spock felt a wave of _pleasant satisfaction_ that was not his own...it blended with his own annoyance...and disbelief. The Gray Guardsmen were leaning towards the open door of the mess hall...their bond mates physically restraining them. _

_Spock had heard the expression "like moths to a flame." It came back to him now..._

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"Wait, wait, wait! You could feel what he was feeling...even though he wasn't touching you...and...he thought the situation was funny?" Nyota said.

"Yes, that is a correct interpretation," Spock replied.

Nyota huffed a laugh. "Well, it was pretty funny...but I remember Novasch...from the meld. You didn't like him! Who is he?"

Spock took a moment to choose his words carefully. He did not want to alarm her again. "He is Toshi's friend. Toshi contacted him when you did not hear from me and suspected that I was in danger..."

She blinked and swallowed. "Yeah...we need to talk about that...I had this feeling...I've been having these feelings..."

Spock looked at her. He tilted his head...she was holding back...he could feel it through his fingers...

"But what about Novasch? If he is Toshi's friend, he can't be all bad, Spock..."

Spock stared at her. The link buzzed with _curiosity...apprehension..._

Perhaps it was better to move on?

"I am just getting to the part of the story you'll find interesting...

"As soon as Novasch sensed me," Spock said, hoping Nyota wouldn't notice his use of the words "sensed" for "saw"...knowledge of the Gray Guardsmen's occupational blindness would be tricky to explain. "As soon as he sensed me he projected a thought in my direction..."

"Projected a thought? At you? I thought you had mental shields for that sort of thing..."

"They were down, at that moment." This was true. It was also true that if Novasch really wanted to project thoughts in Spock's direction, Spock wouldn't be able to do stop him no matter how many mental shields he constructed...but that wasn't necessary for this tale.

"Novasch projected_ That way, Spock_. And then he tilted his head to the left and projected..._not that I am opposed to these bondings, but he needs to be fully informed...and it is not wise while she is inebriated..._"

Nyota's brow furrowed and she smiled at the same time. "I knew a friend of Toshi's couldn't be all bad..."

Spock raised an eyebrow at that but continued...

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

_Racing past humans and Vulcans in the direction Novasch had indicated, Spock and Singh caught up with the man who had almost found himself bonded to T'Laia._

_"Halt," said Spock._

_Spinning around, the man looked Spock and Singh up and down. "You have no jurisdiction over me. I'm not a member of Starfleet nor the Vulcan Defense Force...I'm a free man."_

_The man's words caught the attention of three human and four Vulcan grunts passing by. Suddenly Spock was aware that all eyes on the walkway were on him._

_He was the cultural interpreter. Again. He held out a hand...as he had seen humans do when they wanted to emphasize the need for caution._

_What had Novasch said? _He needs to be fully informed_...maybe that was the way to dissuade the man from this rash action?_

_"You do not understand," said Spock. "Vulcans pair bond for life."_

_The man turned his gaze into the darkness, nodded his head, turned back to Spock and said, "Well, we all gotta settle down sometime, don't we?"_

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Nyota laughed aloud. The link buzzed and Spock was almost certain he could actually feel the serotonin seeping into his brain's appropriate receptors.

"What did you say? What did you say?" she asked, the link still buzzing.

"It does...as you say...get better...or worse. I suppose it depends on how you look at it. At the time -- "

Nyota slapped him lightly on the stomach. "Just tell me more!"

Spock licked his lips. "It was apparent that the potential for a monogamous relationship was not going to deter him. So instead I tried a different tact. I tried to appeal to his masculinity..."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

_"You are aware," Spock said, "that Vulcan physiology is different from human physiology. Besides the difficulties that this will cause should you ever wish to have children..."_

_"But we could have children...you're proof of that," said the man, tilting his head._

_"...with the help of science, you might be able to conceive...however, I must point out that Vulcan women are different from what you are accustomed to. You may not be aware, but T'Laia is at least as strong as you are...possibly slightly stronger."_

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"Oh, Spock," said Nyota, "I hope that didn't work..."

"It did not," Spock said.

Nyota smiled. "What did he say?"

Spock closed his eyes. It was difficult for him to repeat the man's words...

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

_The man smiled...his eyes left Spock's. He shrugged his shoulders and ran his hand over the back of his neck. "I've always wanted a woman who could break my neck between her thighs."_

_Every human in the crowd roared..._

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Nyota's whole body contracted with laughter at Spock's side. His fingers at her temples almost burned from the buzz. His brain was absolutely awash in happiness hormones...he pulled his hand back. It was too much.

"What..." Nyota took a deep breath...and exhaled..."What did you do...?"

"The next move..." Spock tilted his head, "was not mine..."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

_While the humans laughed, the Vulcans turned to Spock. Some of them tilted their heads._

_From behind the small crowd T'Laia suddenly stepped forward. She looked at the man Spock was addressing. "Jonathan," she asked softly, "why would you want me to break your neck between my thighs?"_

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"Oh, no, oh, no, oh, no...." said Nyota putting her hands to her mouth.

Spock raised an eyebrow and sighed. "Oh, yes."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

_"Awww...T'Laia...honey...I know you would never break my neck. It's just a figure of speech..."_

_"Explain," said T'Laia tilting her head._

_The man, Jonathan, looked at the ground. "Well, umm....this isn't really the place..."_

_T'Laia's gaze shot over to Spock. "You will explain," she said._

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Nyota howled again. Then stopped. Her eyes got wide. "I'm sorry, Spock. It is not funny...that is a horrible..."

She took a deep breath...Spock had his hand on her temple again. He could feel the link buzzing. She was trying not to laugh....

"...Position to be in..." Nyota gasped..."I mean yours...not Jonathan's...or T'Laia with Jonathan..."

She doubled over in giggles again.

Actually...if it made her laugh this much...

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

_Spock found all eyes in the crowd on him...Vulcan and human alike. _

_Spock did not really know what Vulcans did in bed. All his experiences had been with human women. He looked at the Vulcans...maybe it was simply that T'Laia had never been bonded -- he didn't know this; it was just a supposition..._

_"Yes, explain," said one of the Vulcan grunts, a middle-aged-looking male._

_It suddenly occurred to Spock that knowing what Vulcans didn't do was knowing too much._

_"It is..." Spock's eyes caught Ensign Singh's. Singh was smiling and looking at Spock. Expectantly? Spock was not good at reading human facial expressions...but..._

_Spock narrowed his eyes. "It is an excellent time for you to take over the job of cultural interpreter, Ensign Singh."_

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Nyota slapped his stomach. "You coward! You absolute coward!"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "I will not argue. In any event, Singh did not have to explain either. At that point two of the Vulcan officers who had accompanied T'Quilloc earlier came and commanded T'Laia to follow them. Of course, she did so without hesitation or complaint."

"Oh..." said Nyota.

From the link Spock felt...

_Disappointment..._

"Nyota," he whispered, "the story is not over yet..."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

_A few days later Spock was underneath a console recalibrating sensors in a hover. _

_"Sir," said Singh, poking his head into the doorway of the vehicle. "I think you need to come here...that engineer, Jonathan...I think he may be going crazy."_

_Pulling himself out from beneath the console quickly, Spock nodded at Singh. Perhaps when they'd interrupted the bonding, he and T'Quilloc had inadvertently harmed Jonathan?_

_He followed Singh out to the other side of the hover until Jonathan was in sight. Holding up a hand, Singh whispered, "Sir, listen..."_

_Working alone on a malfunctioning grav sifter, Jonathan was mumbling to himself. "No, I think if we have a choice it should be pointed ears...well, that is very sweet...but really, don't you think pointed ears are the logical choice? Don't you have better hearing?"_

_It was as if he was carrying on a one-sided argument with someone...Spock blinked. About pointed ears. _

_Jonathan adjusted something with an allen wrench. "You know, I don't care if your hearing is a result of more developed neural networks and the outer shell is unnecessary...I think they'd be cuter with pointed ears..."_

_Spock tilted his head...Who would be cuter with pointed --_

_And then he had a thought. What if Jonathan wasn't arguing with himself? What if...Spock's mother had once told him that when she and his father had first bonded, speaking telepathically had felt alien to her. So she'd spoken her thoughts aloud to focus them..._

_Of course, Jonathan could just be mad --_

_"Sir," whispered Singh, "what is that on his arm? Did he get attacked by an animal?" _

_Spock's eyes went to where Jonathan's sleeve was rolled up...there were round purple welts surrounded by red teeth marks..._

_Or perhaps Jonathan wasn't crazy after all._

_"Ensign Singh," Spock said quietly, "go have a look at the console I was just working on."_

_"Sir?" said Singh._

_"That is an order, Ensign."_

_Singh dutifully backtracked and went into the hover. Spock walked over to Jonathan. He felt...oddly...protective of the man._

_Jonathan turned quickly as Spock approached. He looked at Spock and licked his lips._

_"It might be wise to roll down your sleeves," Spock said quietly._

_Jonathan's mouth opened slightly, he looked down at his arm, narrowed his eyes at Spock, and rolled down his sleeve quickly._

_"And, Jonathan..." Spock put his hands behind his back and felt his lip quirk up on one side. "Watch your neck."_

**A/N:**

O.K…things kind of heat up in the next two chapters, so I wanted to be sure to publish them over the weekend when folks aren't at work. So no posting on Friday…Anyway, I hope this chapter was as fun to read as it was to write. If you were entertained, please drop Notes and me a line. It really helps keep us going!

(For more fun with Novasch read "The Devil Likes Chocolate" - he's also in "The Vulcan" of course.)


	6. Making Do

**Disclaimer: I don't Own Spock/Nyota/Starfleet/Vulcans**

Special thanks to my Beta Notes from the Classroom  
**  
Making Do**

Nyota lay with the side of her head on Spock's shoulder, staring at his profile. The side of his mouth closest to her was slightly quirked.

"I told him to watch his neck," Spock said, finishing his tale.

Nyota laughed...then caught herself...Spock had told a joke...a slightly dirty joke...to someone he didn't know.

Spock appreciated verbal wordplay as an intellectual exercise, a game. He didn't find things funny, per se, but he was pleasantly satisfied when he could maneuver words into a format that humans would consider amusing.

He'd developed his skills at this game with her...for her..."in order to receive visual verification of her happiness." But as long as they'd been together on Earth, he'd never shared this skill with anyone else, except maybe his colleagues and chess buddies Patrick and Toshi.

Now he was telling off-color jokes to strangers.

He had changed. A lot. And even had exciting stories to tell.

What could she tell him about? She went to class. She studied. She worked in the long-range sensor array lab. Aside from hacking Starfleet's computer system when she was trying to track him down -- and that had been done by Gaila and Toshi--there hadn't been that much excitement in her life.

She knew, logically, that this had everything to do with her being a few years behind him, but it still niggled at her. He had been doing things while she'd just been listening...

She sighed a bit. Spock turned his head as much as space would allow.

They weren't linked; he'd let his hand drop from her temple. Now he held up his palm in invitation. She aligned her finger tips to his.

"What is wrong?" Spock asked.

"Nothing," she lied. Then scowled...they were linked...

Arching an eyebrow, Spock said lowly, "Nyota..."

She sighed. "For the past seven months I've felt helpless. I just...felt like I was not doing anything to help so much of the time..."

Spock stared at her for a few moments. "You hardly have been helpless. Need I remind you that it was only due to your intervention, with the aid of Toshi and Gaila, that I am here..."

"But besides that..." Nyota said.

Pulling his arm out from under her head, Spock lay on his side facing her, his hand still pressed to hers. "You are preparing yourself for active duty. That is hardly nothing. I do not fully understand your feelings on this matter."

Nyota shrugged. "They are hardly logical, My Spock. Even I know that."

When she said the words, 'My Spock,' Nyota detected the sounds of a faint rumble in his chest.

Closing his eyes Spock whispered, "My objections to the word 'doing nothing' still stand. But for the sake of argument, I will say that while you found yourself 'doing nothing,' I found thoughts of you to be a significant aid to my well being."

That was...sweet. She looked at the man lying next to her. Her man. The man she had fallen in love with...yet different than that man.

Looking down, she traced the long green scar running across his well-toned chest, just above his slightly olive-shaded nipples.

Breaking their connection, she slid her body down and closer to him. Kissing the length of the scar ever so gently, she asked, "What kind of thoughts..."

A warm hand settled on her temple. She felt him probing. Undoubtedly he would know that her stomach was still unsettled, there was still the slight ghost of a headache in her forehead, and she was tired, all things she wished were not true. She should be ready for him, completely ready. Instead she was slightly sick...and it was all her own fault...

"Shhhhh...Nyota..." Tilting his head Spock projected a wave of pleasant satisfaction -- he was preparing to tell a joke. Trying to put her at ease?

Spock whispered, "I remember some particularly vivid thoughts while nearly dying of hypothermia under a tree in the rain..."

"Dying of hypothermia?" she asked, alarmed.

"I am experimenting with hyperbole..." Both of Spock's eyebrows rose.

Ah. She put a few final kisses on the scar on his chest and began to run her hands through the fine hairs that covered him there.

"I was merely cold," Spock said, running his fingers over her temples. "And very tired. I had not slept in over thirty-six hours, or meditated...and I was wet. When I was a child and my family visited Earth during winter, my mother would tell me to 'think warm thoughts'...I decided under the tree in the rain on Epsilon 1235 that I would attempt to use my mother's tactic to alleviate my discomfort."

"And what warm thoughts did you think about?" Nyota asked, genuinely curious.

The slight rumble in Spock's chest increased in volume. Despite her discomfort, Nyota found herself becoming aroused.

"I thought about our first shower together," Spock said.

Nyota's body went hot. All discomfort forgotten. Oh.

"Fasc---Interesting," said Spock. "Arousal seems to override your sensations of discomfort."

And now she was turned on and feeling like a bug under a microscope at the same time...

Rolling onto his back Spock pulled her up on top of him. Her stomach went a little queasy...but...he was warm, and it had been such a long time...she could feel him pressed against her hip...

"But sudden movements are detrimental," Spock said running a hand across her temples.

Nyota nuzzled his ears. "Yes. Sorry."

A low rumble emerged once again from his chest. Spock ran a hand down her back until it cradled the curve of her backside. She moaned slightly and he gave her a light tap. "A challenge. And a test of my self-control..."

He was wearing only his pants. Nyota still had her dress on. Spock began edging it up slowly, keeping his hands against her body as he did. He was so warm.

When the hem of her dress reached her waist, she lifted herself slightly and let him ease it over her shoulders. She bent down and began nipping his other ear. He let out a satisfied hiss. It had been so long...

Warm hands went to the clasp of her bra and before she knew it, he was easing that off her arms. And then very, very slowly he rolled her over so she was on her back.

He didn't drop his weight down on her; instead, he hovered above her and tilted his head. One hand went to her temple as he began to nip down her jaw.

She didn't feel queasy at all now.

Lifting his head he said, "As I was saying, I thought about our first shower together..."

Her breath hitched. They hadn't actually had _sex_ in the shower that day...she'd been tired after a very intense bout of doing it "Vulcan style." Spock had decided to pleasure her in other ways...She swallowed at the memory of his head slick with water slipping between her thighs.

He took a warm finger and traced a swirl from the base of one breast to the nipple. "Given the circumstances...." Spock tilted his head studying her. He traced another swirl on the other breast. "...a repeat of the activities we engaged in in the shower might be ideal."

"You don't have to do that..." she murmured reaching for his ears. Really, she felt guilty...he wanted--no, _needed--_to bite her. He needed to let loose and be Vulcan...and she was physically not up to it.

At this she got the same response he always gave in this situation...He lifted an eyebrow. Briefly he brought a hand up to her temple...probably to assure that she was well. She felt flickers of _want._..

And then he was lowering his head between her breasts and kissing a trail down her stomach.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Nyota awoke to anger. She rolled to the opposite side of the bed now empty, buried her head in a pillow, and let out a muffled scream of rage and frustration.

Through the window she could see the soft glow of morning light. Outside was an irregular hum...it sounded perhaps like insects.

She didn't feel sick to her stomach at all...her headache was gone...still she rolled onto her back and let a fist bang to the mattress.

She bolted upright...Why was she so angry?

She looked down at her inner thigh where a large hickey had blossomed...Spock had subverted his biting instincts...and been very nice to her. And then they'd fallen asleep in each other's arms...or she had fallen asleep. Spock may not have slept at all.

She had fallen asleep very happy, actually. Safe, sated, and with Spock for the first time in months...

Suddenly a thought occurred to her. Maybe...maybe _she_ wasn't the one who was angry...

Rolling over, she jumped out of bed, picked up her discarded dress, pulled it over her head, and went to find Spock.

**A/N:**

Over at livejournal dot com/community/spock_uhura the nominations for best Spock/Uhura fanfics/art/graphics/video are out. If you haven't checked it out already, I highly recommend it! Its a great place to get your fanfic addictions filled. Also, I want to say thank you to anyone out there who nominated Descartes or The Vulcan for any of the categories. I am really, very, very honored.

So Notes my beta said this chapter was too short...but it sets up the next chapter nicely...which will be published tomorrow...unless I get hit by a bus or something.

If you were mildly entertained, please review. Reviews are the only way fanfiction writers get paid. Thanks for reading everyone.


	7. Bound

**Disclaimer: I don't own Spock or Nyota**

Special Thanks to Beta Notes from the Classroom

**Bound**

He was outside on the porch, sitting on a chair staring down at a PADD. Inside they'd settled on a temperature of 27C...it was slightly warmer outside. He wore only a long sleeve tee and pants.

Looking up as Nyota came out the door, Spock gave her a nod and then turned his eyes back to the PADD.

"What are you doing?" she asked, trying not to grit her teeth.

He didn't answer for a long moment. Instead, he took a slow breath. Nyota took a breath of her own. He was definitely upset.

"I have been doing research on a Vulcan healer that was recommended to me. I had thought that we could rely on most any healer for the bonding...but now that I have realized the extent to which I have damaged..." His jaw clenched.

"Don't get pissed at yourself, Spock," Nyota said, trying to contain the irritation in her voice. Not that he would notice.

He looked up at her quickly.

She decided to change the subject. "Who recommended this healer to you?"

It was an innocent question.

Spock did not move. Nor did he speak...but Nyota felt a rush of emotions jolt through her system. _Fear. Anger_. She'd experienced those feelings the night before during the mind meld when....

"Toshi's friend, Novasch..." Her eyes got wide. It was happening again. "You're afraid. And angry...I can feel it."

Spock tilted his head. "Explain."

"No." She knew Spock -- he was a scientist. He would pick apart her little theory of their quasi-bond bit by bit. She narrowed her eyes. "You explain first."

Spock let out a breath and turned his gaze away from her.

She felt herself go protective. "What is he, Spock?"

Spock said nothing.

"Answer me, Spock." Her hands went to her hips. "And don't tell me he is a member of the Gray Guard. Tell me what he does..."

He closed his eyes. "He is..." Spock took a breath, "...the most accurate description of his occupation is...interrogator."

Nyota felt anger and protectiveness flaring. She wasn't sure if it was Spock's or her own. Striding over to him, she ripped the PADD from his hands. "Did he hurt you?"

He did not look at her, nor did he answer, which was in itself an answer. Putting the PADD on the ground, Nyota slipped into Spock's lap and wrapped her arms around him. He did not respond.

"Spock," she whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

It was several long moments before she felt his arms go to her back.

"It was not as bad as perhaps you suppose. Nyota, I was not subjected to any interrogations myself...we had a disagreement...he reacted badly..."

"Reacted? How?" she asked, not pulling away. What was he talking about?

"He...they go mad, Nyota. It is, as humans say, an occupational hazard. He became angry. He projected. My mental shields were useless."

He'd been telepathically _assaulted_ by Novasch...Professor Toshi Matsumura's _friend..._She remembered after Toshi had contacted Novash how he'd said to her, "I'm sorry, Cadet Uhura..."

She pulled Spock tighter. "And you are taking his recommendation _why_?"

Spock took a deep breath. "Before our altercation, we talked briefly. He...sensed my bond to you...Or rather an incomplete bond.

"He asked if there had been an accident and recommended a Vulcan healer named T'Quill. As you undoubtedly know, not all Vulcans are predisposed to humans."

Nyota controlled an urge to huff at that bit of understatement.

Spock let a hand trail down her back. "Novasch said that T'Quill genuinely is..."

Nyota pulled away slightly.

Looking in her eyes at last, Spock said, "He said that if anything ever happened to Toshi or Yumi, T'Quill was the only healer he would trust...Of course, I did not go on Novasch's word alone. I have spent several hours reviewing candidates. T'Quill stands above all others. She founded the discipline of Comparative Vulcan Human Neuroanatomy." Spock looked down. "And she is very difficult to get a hold of. She is based at Oxford, but she is on a year's sabbatical..."

Nyota felt her shoulders go tight. _Frustration_ again. His.

What had he thought? That he would look the T'Quill person up and she'd be able to transport here before their two weeks were over and...

Of course Spock had not _thought_ this. He had _hoped_. He wasn't _always_ logical.

She ran her fingers through the hair on the back of his neck and he brought his hands up to her forearms.

The strange humming of the Altair 25 insects filled the warm air. She could smell the salt water of the nearby beach.

Pushing her forehead to his she said, "So, in a little over a year's time we'll be bonded officially. The original plan was to wait until I graduated..."

Nodding, Spock said nothing.

The anger Nyota had felt was gone.

...her theory of their quasi-bond was corroborated by an insane hyper-telepathic Vulcan who had assaulted Spock.

Super.

...and Spock, of course, had never spoken of the assault_..._They had hidden too much from one another.

_"My Spock,"_ she whispered in Vulcan. As soon as she said it, she felt the tiny tendrils of another emotion begin to uncoil in her stomach, alien, dark and seductive. It was what she half-jokingly referred to as Vulcan love. It was territorial protectiveness, lust, and love all bundled up together. The passion of a telepathic species from a harsh unforgiving planet that pair bonded for life...

...They weren't linked...Whatever channel she was tuned into was set to _on_. Suddenly Nyota was inspired. Spock would want proof of their almost-bond. Why not make the most of it?

_"You are mine,"_ she said in Vulcan._ "We are bonded."_

The alien emotion blossomed in her belly and she felt her center go hot. Taking her forehead off Spock's, she bent her head down and bit him right above the collar of his tee shirt. And felt...

_Joy...want...need...desire..._and more of the dark emotion that wasn't her own...it was overwhelmingly sexy.

The sound of a Spock's low growl blended with the hum of the insects. Feeling him try to bring his hands up to her temples, she caught his wrists and met his eyes.

Lunging forward, his mouth met hers in fevered kisses. _"Nyota...I...will...bite...please..."_ he breathed softly in Vulcan.

They always linked when things got rough. It allowed Nyota to experience Spock's emotions and feel his desire...it overrode the pain.

Smiling, Nyota closed her eyes. They were not physically linked...but she could feel his emotions swirling inside her. _"We are bonded, my Spock...go ahead, bite me..."_

Something like a moan and a growl came out of Spock's mouth. He tore his wrists out of her hands, pulled the strap of her dress to the side and lunged down to her shoulder. As his teeth dug into her skin Nyota heard her own moan mingled with the hum of the insects.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Spock shuddered beneath her and Nyota collapsed on his bare chest, echoes of her climax still ricocheting through her body. Spock trembled slightly beneath her.

Spock wrapped an arm around her and she rolled so that she was nestled against him and the couch seat...The couch was tipped over...They were lying on the couch's back...a bit of cushion stuffing floated in the air.

As soon as she caught her breath, she laughed. "That was fun," she teased.

Spocked turned his head and knocked his forehead roughly to hers. It was an admonishment. He got annoyed when she "trivilized" these experiences with words like "fun." She giggled.

Letting out a long breath, Spock said softly, "We were not linked...and yet..."

"...and yet we were...I could feel your..." She grinned wickedly. "Vulcan-love." She didn't feel any emotions from him anymore, but it _had been fun_ while it lasted.

Moving his forehead from hers, Spock said curtly, "Explain."

Ah, yes. Afterglow with a Vulcan scientist. She laughed again, propped herself up on an elbow and tweaked his nose. He pointedly raised an eyebrow at her.

She took a deep breath, "I...For a while now, sometimes I feel what you are feeling...even when we are not linked."

Tilting his head he asked, "Since the bonding?"

"No," her brow furrowed. "Since before that, actually...I think maybe since that walk in Muir Woods...But nothing I could put my finger on until the day in class, before you came to get me after Commander Sharpton told you about the accusations. I felt afraid...and then angry." Her brow furrowed a little more. "I thought I was experiencing a panic attack...I don't get panic attacks..."

"Do you always feel what I am feeling?" Spock asked, dark eyes on her.

"No," Nyota confessed. "It comes and goes. I don't really know why. Remember the day you burned your hands on the butt of the Klingon rifle? I felt my hands burn, too...but I thought it was the coffee I was holding..."

"It might well have been," Spock said.

She tweaked his nose again. "I knew you'd say that." She arched an eyebrow.

"When you were on Epsilon 1235...a lot of weird things happened. It started the night of your first subspace call. I was having a dream about you...it was very...erotic. And then you called and woke me up and we had..." They had had subspace vid sex. Initiated by _him._

Spock's hand feathered softly down her bare back. "Yes. But we had not spoken to each other in such a fashion in a long time. It would be logical that we were both in need of release." He raised an eyebrow. "You must tell me more details of this dream..."

Narrowing her eyes she said, "But it was odd that it was at the exact same moment and that you woke me up specifically for that purpose..."

"Coincidence," Spock said.

She sighed a bit. She knew this would be difficult; this is why she hadn't brought this subject up before...although she had hoped that the practical demonstration...she ran a finger across some bright green scratches on his chest. He purred ever so slightly.

"And then I almost fell over in the lab the next morning...I felt so unsteady on my feet...A PADD fell out of my hands. When I heard about the tremors on Epsilon 1235..."

"Had you eaten breakfast that morning?" Spock asked.

"I don't know," she sighed. "When everyone said that the power outage was your fault, I didn't believe them..."

"That was entirely logical on your part," Spock said. "It is unlikely that I would..."

She groaned. Mercifully, he did not finish.

He took a deep breath. "Excuse me, Nyota. I am only trying to understand."

"I know." She blinked. There was only one more thing...although it was weirder than all the others and would probably just make him think she was out of her mind.

"I had this other dream, Spock. It was really strange." She looked down at her hands. "You cut my hair very short...with a hunting knife...and said it was a halo and I'd be safer. Then we were at the altar of a church and you kissed me. I was wearing a white dress and had little fairy wings...I know, I know...it's probably my subliminal desire to make our relationship entirely legit...it probably means nothing..."

His hand brushed her temple. She felt _curiosity...urgency..._ She looked up. Spock was staring very hard at her. His face was expressionless...

"Go on," he whispered.

Surprised, she began again. "Then I was being hitched up to the top of the church steeple like I was a prop in stage play..."

Spock let out a low breath.

"You think I'm crazy?" she asked.

He kissed her. "No. Continue."

"It got even stranger. I was dancing in a huge ballroom killing Klingons by just touching them." She looked up. Spock said nothing, but one of his eyebrows was raised.

Dropping her eyes she said, "And then I saw you, and I knew that I had to go because if I stayed you'd be distracted. Everything went black for awhile and then I was falling through the sky in the arms of another man..." She blinked. "It was Roland...that guy from the mind meld...but maybe you're right, maybe I saw his face in a news holo..."

She felt him stiffen slightly...

"I was punching him, Spock, I was so angry at him...he wasn't you. And then he was you...and..."

"And?" Spock asked.

She shrugged. "My alarm rang." She met his gaze. "Probably not the definitive proof you were looking for..."

Spock swallowed. "Nothing is definitive. But the images in your dream...bear a striking resemblance to events that occurred in reality."

Narrowing her eyes at him, she whispered, "Explain."

"I had a rare attack of empathy on Epsilon 1235," Spock said, staring up at the ceiling. "I suppose Roland and his wife, Angel, reminded me of us." He swallowed. "And Angel, in particular, reminded me of you." He glanced at her. She tilted her head...he hadn't mentioned _that_ before.

Spock looked up at the ceiling. "I often imagined being in their place. Roland cut Angel's hair -- with a hunting knife; it was too long, and he did not want her to be compromised by it. Angel had to venture into the heart of enemy territory with us in order to provide cover from a church steeple while we attempted to get more weapons from a hidden storage bunker. We did not have enough to survive even a day of true combat, and she is Epsilon 1235's most talented sniper.

"Beneath the steeple Roland kissed her goodbye, I am sure he knew that the odds of seeing her again were perhaps 13 to 23%...she hoisted herself up on a mechanical grappling hook...And then she killed all the guards on the roof of the bunker and in front from over twenty-three-hundred meters, in the dark...very delicate work."

He let out a soft breath. "I told you how Roland sacrificed his life..."

She nodded. Roland had flown a hover into an oncoming enemy vehicle.

Spock said softly, "He was dying...Angel would not leave him. I did not mention how I had to pull her out of the hover kicking and screaming. When we reached the ground she pummeled me with her fists."

Oh.

He hadn't just been living a separate life...he'd been living a separate life with other people--that he evidently cared about. He'd been affected by their pain and suffering...that said a lot. Spock was ordinarily quite distant. And this Angel person reminded him of her? On the one hand, it sounded like she was an exemplary human being, but...

A barely audible purr rolled in the space between them. "You are...jealous?" Spock asked.

She'd forgotten she was linked. Goddamn empathic half-Vulcan...

A wave of_ happiness_ crashed through her temples. She blinked. Of course...he _liked_ being her territory...

She sighed. "I shouldn't be. Of course you will make friends while we're apart. I am sad that they can be with you and I can't."

Spock blinked at her. "Friends...is a strong word. Although I suppose, I did come to an understanding with Angel as the weeks wore on." He looked away. His hand was on Nyota's temple but he projected nothing. Possibly because there was nothing to project...she probed a little.

Spock turned his gaze back to her. "I would meditate by the fire in the front room at night. Sometimes when I came out of my trance at night Angel would be there. She did not sleep well after Roland died. She used the expression, 'Wandering around with his ghost'..." He tilted his head. Now _confusion_ broadcast clearly through the link.

Spock said softly, "Sometimes I do not understand the evocative imagery used in human expressions."

"She misses her husband very much," Nyota said. "I don't think you can really understand losing a life partner until it happens to you..."

"Yes," said Spock. "I think you are correct."

Nyota felt a flash of _excitement_ and _comprehension _through the link. This was just another puzzle for him.

"The Vulcan officer that Angel linked with at the bar, the one that lost his bond mate, he did become friends with Angel. She said, 'It is nice to be with someone who understands.' That statement would support your hypothesis, Nyota."

For a moment Spock just gazed at her. His his lips were quirked in his slight half smile and Nyota got the feeling he thought she was the smartest, most beautiful being in the universe.

Then his face went impassive again. "We have wandered off topic. We were discussing the possibility that we are bonded, though incompletely." He turned away. "I do not have an explanation for this. I know of no scientific theory or framework that describes this scenario."

"I have a theory," Nyota whispered.

Spock looked at her.

She licked her lips. "The ancient Terrans noticed that human couples could tell when their partner was thinking about them even when they were separated. They called this phenomena Quantum Entanglement...like when quanta are separated by space, but not separated -- that cannot be described in full without mention of the other..."

"That sounds suspiciously like the pseudoscience popular on ancient Earth," Spock said. "Humans do not have the telepathic structures in the brain that..."

"You are being illogical," Nyota said. Spock went silent. "Just because we don't have the same structures for telepathy that Vulcans or Betazoids have doesn't mean we are completely without telepathic capacity. That is comparing apples to oranges...It is a fallacy of logic..."

He raised an eyebrow, but did not respond.

"The observations were collaborated by several different research institutions on Earth in double blind tests in the 2000's," Nyota said. "It was seen mostly in couples that had been together for a long time. But I wondered...you are telepathic, and we are so often linked. Maybe while you were pushing the electrical impulses around in my brain, maybe we jump-started the process?"

"I suppose that this...Quantum Entanglement...went both ways, that both human partners experienced it?" Spock asked.

"Yes," Nyota said.

"But I have not experienced similar...entanglement," Spock said.

"Perhaps because your brain is more Vulcan?" Nyota asked. "Perhaps it is...a human thing?"

Spock let out a deep breath. "I am not satisfied with Quantum Entanglement being used to describe our possible connection. Quantum Entanglement is a phenomena of the quantum world."

Nyota sighed. "That is what the ancient Terran physicists said, too."

Spock dropped his hand from her temple and pulled her body on top of his. "This does not mean that I doubt that you are experiencing some connection to me, Nyota."

Pushing his forehead against hers he said, "If there is no scientific explanation for an observable phenomena, it does not mean the phenomena does not exist. It means that science is lacking."

Nyota felt herself going limp pressed against his warm body.

His hands feathered up and down her back, then came back to her temples. "And for all intents and purposes, Nyota, I still consider us bonded," Spock said softly.

Through her temples came sensations of _love, trust, reassurance_ and tiny tendrils of that alien emotion that had no real translation.

"Bound," she whispered softly.

"Bound," he agreed.

**A/N:**

Thanks everyone for reading! I rewrote this chapter and the last one no less than three times before I was satisfied with it. If you liked it, please review! It is the only way fan fiction authors and our beta's get paid.

Nyota sexy dream was in "The Vulcan" - Chapter 10: Rude Awakenings  
Nyota's other dream is in "The Vulcan" - Chapter 15: The Halo (People have told me this chapter could stand as its own short story)


	8. The First Day of the Rest of Your Life

**Disclaimer: I don't own Spock, Nyota or the Federation**

Special thanks to Beta Notes from the Classroom

**The First Day of the Rest of Your Life (Opa!)**

His vision went black. Gasping for air, his body convulsed and was flooded with delicious warmth. His hips beneath Nyota's nearly imperceptible weight made one final jerk...

Suddenly, there was no weight on his hips. Through the haze of his climax he heard a loud thud.

Spock's eyes opened. Nyota was bracing herself against the headboard, her bare breasts above his mouth, her core above his chest.

"Whoa there, cowboy!" Nyota said.

How did she get up there? A moment ago she was astride his hips...his mind whirled. The gravity on Altair 25 was less than Earth's; he hadn't adjusted for it. He should have kept his hands on her...but she already had bruises.

Nyota burst out laughing.

His mouth dropped. She knew he was terrified that someday he might hurt her. He was as strong as a full Vulcan even if he was technically half-human. And yet she laughed.

"I'm fine, Spock." She started laughing again.

He lifted an eyebrow. He was glad she was uninjured, but, really.

"Whoa there, cowboy? Nyota, is this some sort of colloquialism?"

She collapsed breathlessly on her side next to him. "Yes."

Well, that was unsatisfactory.

"I infer the meaning is to reign in one's behavior?" Spock asked.

"Reign in...Ha! That's kind of funny, Spock. You pun-ster, you." Her head fell forward on his chest.

"But in this circumstance the descriptor 'cowboy' makes absolutely no sense," Spock said, trying to keep from sounding annoyed.

"Why not, My Spock?"

"Because, obviously, you were on top of me. Therefore, it is only logical that the 'cowboy' in this scenario is..."

"Me, not you!" Nyota laughed. She lifted her head and raised an eyebrow at him. "Of course, that would make you the horse. I retract my previous statement. Whoa there, Nellie!"

"Nellie? That is a female name, is it not?"

Nyota rolled her eyes. "Whoa there, Trigger! There, are you satisfied?"

"Satisfied? At being metaphorically compared to a brute animal? No."

Spock caught himself. There was an opening here for teasing. "Although...I suppose, that there are other metaphorical comparisons to horses that might be...flattering."

Nyota's eyes narrowed. "And what metaphorical comparisons would those be, Lieutenant Commander?"

Spock raised an eyebrow. He just couldn't bring himself to say it. No matter how good a joke it would be...it was too vulgar.

Nyota's eyes got even narrower. "Would these be anatomical comparisons, Mister Spock?"

His lips quirked involuntarily.

"Forget it, I am not going to say that you are hung like a --" She sat up, picked up a pillow, and attempted to swat him across the face with it. He blocked it easily with one arm. He felt extremely satisfied.

Nyota settled down at his side and muttered, "That sort of compliment would only go to your head."

He couldn't resist. "Which one?"

Nyota made a sound that sounded like a growl. "You know, Spock...men who are extremely well-endowed tend to make lousy lovers."

He tensed. Don't ask. Don't ask. Don't ask. "You know this how?"

He shouldn't have asked.

"Gaila," said Nyota.

Ah, her Orion roommate.

Relaxing a bit Spock tilted his head. "Actually, her sample size is probably adequate..."

"Yep." Nyota agreed. "She has a hypothesis -- she thinks the big guys rely too much on that one piece of anatomy."

"But there always 'exceptions that prove the rule,' as humans say, are there not?" he asked, wondering how far he could push her along this topic.

Nyota's brow furrowed. "You know, I don't really even...you know my sample size has been too small..."

Her eyes widened. "I mean...that's not what I mean." Nyota's skin became ever so slightly red. "I've always thought you were proportional..."

Spock raised an eyebrow at her. He actually had no discomfort in this regard. It would be illogical. His lips quirked.

"You're teasing me, aren't you?" Nyota said, eyes narrowing. She sat up again quickly and another pillow came crashing towards his face. He let it hit him this time and then he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her in. He put two fingers on her temples and transmitted his mood. He was happy, satisfied, sated.

"Me, too," said Nyota. "But today we are actually going to get out of bed..."

"Agreed." He looked out the window, open now to the warm air and the humming of the native insects. It was the third morning after Nyota's arrival, and still early. They hadn't done much the past two days.

They'd gone to two of the native towns for meals and had walked along the beach -- even gone swimming. The water was saline enough that Spock's denser body mass didn't cause him to sink like a stone. They hadn't visited the local museums or historical sites yet, though. Usually by the time they really got up, it was late afternoon and almost closing time.

"...after a short nap," said Nyota, yawning into his shoulder.

Through the link Spock felt...

_Happiness...comfort..._

Spock took a moment to savor having her cool body pressed against his. After their recent bout of exertion, he was actually a little warm, even lying on the bed without clothes or sheets.

Gazing down he admired Nyota's hair falling in a long wave on the white sheets behind her. Her eyes fluttered shut and he watched as all the muscles in her body began to stiffen then relax. His gaze fell on the welt he'd made the first morning she was here and he felt himself get slightly warmer.

He started to breathe deeply. Now, in his state of afterglow and contentment, it would be an ideal time to meditate...

Pushing all of his conscious thought out of his mind, he began to relax and let himself just be.

And then his comm rang.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Spock looked down at her as she lay in bed; he was in uniform. Only his blue shirt was missing.

"You look great," she said. And he did. Nyota decided she hoped she never had to see him in his instructor uniform again. He just looked so much more at ease in his science blues -- even without the blue.

"I am sorry, Nyota." Kneeling down next to her, he brought his forehead to hers. "Someone dropped the main sensory array board and I am needed to recalibrate it. You are authorized to operate the hover...you have my comm number and I yours."

"It's alright, Spock, I'll be fine." She was glad they weren't linked. She did not want him to know how disappointed she felt. "Will you have to go into orbit on the Farragut, or will the repairs be done here?"

"The repairs must be done here, but...I may wish to observe the sensory array being put into place aboard the ship. Perhaps with more careful monitoring, this will not happen again. I should be back by mid-evening."

She nodded. "Go catch your shuttle."

Spock pulled away from her and gave her a gentle kiss. And then he nodded once, turned and left the room without a backward glance. She heard the front door open and close.

The day had started out so wonderfully. They'd made love...and it had been wonderful. And then the expression on Spock's face when he bucked her off, eyes wide, mouth opened...she'd remember that until the day she died. The raunchy teasing...he'd changed. But it hadn't all been bad.

Now he was gone

She swallowed. She was completely alone on an alien world. Well...get used to it. Their careers would always have to come first.

Berating herself she muttered, "Don't let yourself be miserable, Nyota."

Swinging her legs around, she brought her feet to the floor and headed in the direction of the shower.

Nyota liked driving. Usually. But she found in the strange landscape of Altair 25 that she would much rather be staring at the vibrant purple blue foliage, or looking up at the slightly-pink-tinted clouds. It was hard to keep her focus on the road.

At the town closest to where their cabin was located, she parked the hover and hopped out, happy to be on the ground and free to stare and daydream.

It was midday, and hot, of course, but she'd adapted to the heat by now. It wasn't too humid either. Even in town the melodic insects were still humming.

The local architecture reminded her of pictures she'd seen of the Greek islands. Whitewashed stone domes lined the streets. The sidewalks were shaded by purple palms. When she was up close to the palms, she realized that the foliage was more like feathers than leaves. Beneath each leaf the coloring was filmy and slightly reflective, causing the walkways to dance with color as the trees shifted in the slight breeze.

It was Altair 25's island chains' prime tourist season, so she was hardly the only alien in town. The sidewalks were swarmed with humans -- she swore there were more of them than the natives; she also thought she saw a Vulcan or two, and even an Andorian...though she couldn't imagine that an Andorian could ever be comfortable in this climate.

As she walked along the street she passed directly by a group of humans carrying signs that said, "Save Altair's 25 Island Chains!" and "No New Dilithium Mines!"

One of the humans in the group approached her. "Miss, help us save Altair 25's natural environment from Federation opportunists." He held a flyer and pamplets in her direction.

Nyota did care about the environment, but she noted that the group was made up almost entirely of humans, and one native Tillal'a'han...who looked slightly drunk. It just didn't feel right that most of the protesters were not natives. She decided to take a page out of her mother's book and be diplomatic. "Thank you, but no." Then she lied. "Maybe on the way back...I don't have anywhere to put it right now," she explained holding up her small purse.

"Okay, well maybe on the way back then." The man smiled at her and turned to the next human behind her.

Nyota did her best to bolt without looking like she was bolting. She noticed a few curious Tillal'a'hans following her with their eyes.

A block and a half down the street, she found herself outside a little building that had native crafts in the window -- jewelry, pottery, small paintings. It looked like an excellent place to get souvenirs for her family and Gaila. Ducking into the cool interior of the shop, she nodded at the shopkeeper and said in the native language, _"The trees are purple, the sky is blue." _

It was the Tillal'a'han way of saying good day. She was ashamed that she hadn't had a chance to really study the native language before her trip -- what linguist ever ventured to a foreign land without pouring over the language first? She felt like a disgrace to her profession, but she'd found out she'd be coming just as it was time for exams. Still, she had managed to memorize a few key expressions.

The Tillal'a'han stared at her. She was an older woman--Nyota would have guessed mid-forties if she'd been human. There were delicate lines beneath her eyes. Long white hair hung straight and neat halfway down her back. She wore a simple purple blue irridescent dress.

The Tillal'a'han woman was still staring at her...Nyota wondered if maybe she hadn't gotten the expression right. _"Excuse me..." _Nyota began in the native language, preparing to apologize.

_"Tishgi' tsilan iolll tinogolinka Tillal'a'han kee ma?"_ The woman asked quickly.

Nyota understood only one word out of the string, but she could guess what the question was. It was the same question always asked when you tried to speak the native language in a foriegn land. The woman asking if Nyota spoke Tillal'a'han.

_"Only a little,"_ Nyota replied. She held her hands up palms out in the way she had read was like a nod.

The Tillal'a'han woman smiled. "No humans speak Tillal'a'han here! Come! We get food."

Nyota stared. Should she go? She had read that the Altair 25 islands were a very safe place. She hadn't read of any human visitors being murdered or abducted. Still...one never wanted to be the first.

On the other hand...it was an older woman she was speaking to...she didn't _look_ dangerous.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Watching as the sensory array was placed into its protective casing and loaded into the shuttle, Spock hurriedly took out his comm. It was late afternoon; he was worried about Nyota. Although they had planned on his having to work a few days during her visit, he had not expected to be called on duty today. She hadn't had time to prepare or make plans.

He suspected she was disappointed. He was disappointed. Although, of course, he could not shirk his responsibilities as a science officer.

The shuttle would not be cleared to depart for another twenty minutes. He had some time. Flipping the comm into transmit mode, he chimed Nyota.

He waited five rings and there was no answer. Where was she? She would never get upset with him for attending to his duties as science officer. He blinked. Would she? There had been another woman in his past who had gotten upset with his "single-minded pursuit of his career"...it had ended with an unfortunate incident involving his comm, his roommate Brian from his Academy days, and a shoe...But Nyota had never resented his work. He'd been apart from her so long he had forgotten the type of person she was...

...of course, that meant she was unable to get to her comm for some reason.

Perhaps she was in the shower? It was late in the day, though.

She would never go swimming by herself, would she?

Had there been some sort of accident?

His comm started to chime. Hastily putting it to his ear, he felt his body relax as Nyota's voice rang out, _"Hi Spock!"_

"Nyota, I..." He stopped. Listened. From his comm came something that sounded like a harp in a musical dueling contest with a drum. "Is that music in the background?"

Nyota laughed through the comm so hard Spock felt the device vibrate. _"Yes, it's music. Isn't it great?"_

Before Spock could answer from his comm came the sound of a multitude of hominid voices shouting,_ "En-lai!"_

Nyota said, _"I think that loosely translates into _Opa_!"_

"Opa?" Spock asked.

_"Yeah, you know, like the Greek. They're teaching me their native dances...it's kind of like a belly dance meeting square dancing. Don't worry, only dancing with the girls...for now," _Nyota said, obviously breathing heavily. _"Are you alright? I couldn't get to my comm in time to pick up."_

Spock blinked at the rapid-fire pace of Nyota's words. And the expression 'for now.' "I am afraid I will need to go up to the Farragut to ensure installation of the sensory array is done properly. I am afraid that it will not be completed until approximately 19:00."

_"Oh...that's too bad..." _Nyota sighed.

Ahh...she was as disappointed as he was. He would try to make it up to her.

_"...but, wait, I've got a great idea..." _Nyota said quickly. _"If you're on the Farragut, could you pick up your lyre? They've invited us to a huge party they're having tonight...I haven't said yes yet, but it would be really great if we could attend. Spock, the Tillal'a'hans are wonderful! They think that interspecies marriages are great. It's all part of their great big Rejoining thing. They so want to meet you..."_

Party? Tillal'a'hans? Belly dancing?

_"Please..." _said Nyota.

He had really wanted to spend time alone with her tonight. And every night, really.

_"I'll make sure they don't touch you..."_

There had to be a legitimate way to get out of this. Ahh...yes.

"Will they be able to provide vegetarian food? The Tillal'a'hans are famously carnivorous. It would be unfortunate if I were to cause an uncomfortable incident due to an inability to eat the proffered cuisine."

_"Don't worry, the local Tillal'a'hans are omnivores, Spock, just like humans. I've already checked; there will be vegetarian dishes."_

"You realize...I will not...belly dance. Under any circumstances." Even pain of death.

_"Yep. But I think you and your lyre would be a perfect addition to the band...I know you're great at improvising..."_

"I am Vulcan. Flattery will get you nowhere," said Spock.

Through the comm came a long shout of _"En-lai babab ab abbbbbabaaa!" _

_"You don't want to come, do you?" _ Nyota asked, her voice nearly drowned out by the sound of another En-lai from the Tillal'a'hans in the background._ "It would mean so much to me...It would be nice to have friends while you're working..."_

"But is it necessary to attend a...party...to make friends?" Spock asked.

Spock's comm quaked with another loud, _"En-lai!" _The natives sounded excessively jubilant.

And loud.

_"But what better way to learn about a new culture than by studying their celebrations? It would be good for my career, of course, to get to know the natives better, too. And their language...I am a xenolinguist, after all..."_

He couldn't fault her logic. His father had remarked that an understanding of a society's celebrations was a good way to achieve deeper understanding of their culture. And she would probably enjoy having company when he had to report to duty...although he himself might have been more content with just a guide book.

He sighed. He was bound. To a future communications officer.

**A/N:**  
The first scene was something I wanted to put in Descartes. Just random fluff fun.

If you enjoyed, please drop my notes beta and I a line...its the only way us fan fic authors and betas get paid -- and we love hearing from you!


	9. The Rejoining

**Disclaimer: Spock or Nyota**

Special Thanks To Beta Notes from the Classroom

**The Rejoining**

They're fascinating, Spock!" Nyota said as he set down his lyre in their cabin. "Did you know that they do not have a word for 'natural'?"

"No, Nyota I did not know that," Spock replied.

"They don't separate what we consider natural from what we consider to be technological," Nyota said, following him into the bedroom as he stripped off his science blues. "They think if it comes from our hands...and by that I mean the hands of any four or five-fingered biped, that it is, well, natural. Like we consider termite mounds or beehives to be natural."

"Fascinating," said Spock. Actually he did find it somewhat interesting...but...

Nyota didn't even snicker. Where was the Pavlovian Vulcan Giggle Response?

"They were really impressed that I didn't accept a flier from some humans protesting the development of dilithium mines on the islands. They really want the mines. They want to pull themselves into the twenty-third century fast..."

Spock caught her face gently in his hands and kissed her.

Exactly seventeen minutes and thirty-three seconds later, Nyota sat up quickly and said with a wide smile, "That was fun, Spock. Do you want to shower?"

He had wanted that to last longer, but she had chanted 'you're mine, mine, mine' over and over again and bit him repeatedly -- in what he suspected was a deliberate act of sabotage.

He pulled her back down to him. "Nyota, do you not wish to --" He almost said the word _snuggle_ in desperation. "Engage in an extended bout of mutual affection?"

She nuzzled his nose. "You're so sweet, but we don't want to be late for dinner...and the party!"

Nyota bounced out of bed and made her way to the closet. "I wonder what I'll wear..."

And then without any segue whatsoever, she bounced back to the topic they'd been discussing earlier. "And Spock, they think hybrids are the apex of evolution -- the perfect blend of technology and biology. Not that they have hybridogenesis here; they're barely at the artificial insemination stage of medical technology. But philosophically, at least, they are totally on board with the potential."

He was resigned. They were going to this party.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Nyota was feeling pretty pleased with herself. The quickie with Spock had been so cute and unexpected -- although she wondered if it might not have been a deliberate act of attempted distraction. He may have been trying to get out of coming to the party...she'd purposely hurried it along.

Spock generally was not predisposed to large gatherings, even if he did nine times out of ten wind up having a good time. Okay, maybe it was more like five times out of ten.

The home of the Tillal'a'hans who had unofficially adopted Nyota and Spock was immense. It was a large network of interconnected whitewashed domes surrounded by lush purple blue folliage. As soon as Spock and Nyota hopped out of the hover, seven obviously excited Tillal'a'hans rushed to greet them.

They cheerfully chirped and buzzed with words she mostly couldn't understand. But she caught snippets of 'human,' 'hybrid,' 'exciting,' and 'the rejoining is coming!'

She was immediately caught up in one of their full frontal, cheek touch greetings. But to her great pleasure, relief, and pride, they did not touch Spock. Instead they held their palms up flat and cheek touched air in front of him as she had suggested--no skin contact whatsoever.

Spock held up his palms in imitation and turned his head. He arched an eyebrow in her direction. She grinned triumphantly. Yes, she was the communications officer extraordinaire.

As they were led up to the house, Spock whispered, "They did not touch me, Nyota. How did you manage that?"

"I told them skin to skin contact was disorientating, made you dizzy, and you might vomit," Nyota said.

Spock blinked. "That is not the official explanation we normally give to outsiders..."

"Maybe if it were, there wouldn't be so many incidents," Nyota whispered back.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Did she need to be so...honest...in her explanations of Vulcan hesitancy towards physical contact?

They were ushered into the house and into a large room filled with Tillal'a'hans. They appeared to be, as humans said, _mingling_. Spock found mingling a slightly intimidating activity. He preferred order and rules to social interactions. It made it easier not to offend. He stayed close to Nyota. This would be a very trying evening.

An aesthetically pleasing older native woman rushed up to his bond mate, caught her in the standard greeting and said,_ "The leaves are now indigo and the sky is filled with stars!" _Spock recognized this native expression for 'Good Evening' from the short cultural briefing Nyota had delivered in the hover.

As the woman's body parted from Nyota's, she smiled and spoke in Standard. "First we relax, then eat, then dance." She looked over at Spock. "This is your handsome hybrid, eh? It's good to meet him."

Nyota's handsome hybrid? Spock tilted his head appreciatively at the possessive. And he had just been given his own designation--'hybrid,' not Vulcan or human -- although he obviously looked more Vulcan than Terran. He was intrigued.

"Spock," Nyota smiled, "this is Calinea. I met her in the shop."

"Nyota tell me much about you," Calinea said in fractured Standard. "You like 3D chess?"

Did he _like_ 3D chess? Did Tillal'a'hans engage in rhetorical questions?

"We have something better," Calinea said. "You come with me."

Spock felt his ears quiver ever so slightly.

He was dimly aware of Nyota saying, "Have fun!" as he followed Calinea off through the crowd. He did notice that no one touched him.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Nyota didn't see Spock again until dinner when he was seated next to her at a low table surrounded by cushions. When she asked him how the game was he said, "It is not 3D chess...but it is fascinating."

She giggled.

He bowed his head close to hers and said, "I must thank you for insisting we come."

She smiled. Victory.

The Tillal'a'hans were absolutely perfect. They seemed to be open-minded to new intellectual ideas. Friendly. Accommodating of other people's customs. They hadn't had a war on their planet for centuries...although she gathered that there were cultural differences from place to place on the planet. So unlike Earth at a similar stage in its development. She wondered what held it all together.

Also they were all incredibly…cute. They looked the pixies Nyota remembered from old fashioned European fairy tales. Tall, human sized pixies with sandstone colored skin…but pixies.

When the elder began talking, Nyota listened in rapt attention to glean whatever she could.

"And so," the elder said, sitting across from Spock and Nyota's position of honor at the table, "... all bipedal varieties: the Klingons, humans, Vulcans, Romulans, Bjorans...etcetera, etcetera, etcetera, are product of master race that seeded galaxy with basic genetic instructions."

"Each variety of biped evolve body and culture to meet local climate..." the elder said. "None is perfect. All flawed. But all have something to teach."

Nyota nodded approvingly. They saw all species as 'varieties' of one race. That was so refreshing -- and amazing from a people that hadn't been space-going until a few years ago.

"And someday all are one," the elder said, as the guests at the table nodded. "No flaws. All best things. Mister Spock is evidence of this day coming. The Day of Rejoining. Very glorious, happy, happy, happy day...then all goes right universe will collapse upon itself. Start over."

The elder nodded and smiled directly at Spock. Nyota looked over to see Spock blink.

"So you think hybridization heralds the coming of the end of the universe?" Spock asked, ever seeking clarity.

"Yes," said the elder, smiling and nodding.

"But you think that hybridization is a good thing?" Nyota said, curious about the dichotomy of this philosophy.

"Yes. Rejoining. Hybridization. Universe collapse. All good," said the elder.

From around the table came murmurs of "all good, all good, all good."

Well, at least they were open to all races getting along...even if they did believe it was the sign of the beginning of the end...

"Tillal'a'hans will learn all Federation teaches. All Klingon and Romulan Empire teaches. And all others. Rise up. Take over all varieties. Bring news of glorious Rejoining. Will take approximately five hundred years..." the elder smiled.

Nyota blinked. Froze. The guide books hadn't mentioned this part of the philosophy.

From around the table came murmurs of "All will be happy! All will be rejoined!"

"Well, at least we have been forewarned," said Spock dryly.

"Fore -- ahhhh...Informed!" said the elder. Nyota was glad they had insisted on testing their Standard by not using universal translators. "Yes, you have been informed. Please share good news!"

Religious zealotry. That is what held the planet together. And apparently a desire to proselytize, potentially violently.

Spock opened his mouth. "In point of fact the word I ahhhh—"

Nyota reached over and pinched Spock's nearest earlobe. It was affectionate gesture between mates among the Tillal'a'hans...of course, she hadn't noticed them using their nails quite the way she did. There would be no debating dogma over dinner -- at least not while they were outnumbered.

Spock's mouth stayed open, but his words stopped. He just raised an eyebrow in her direction. Dropping her hand, she raised an eyebrow back at him.

From around them came soft coos of "They are rejoined! They are rejoined!"

"Of course, we will give full rights of citizenship to all bipedal varieties," said the elder.

"What about non-bipedal sentient creatures?" asked Spock.

There were murmurs around the table.

"Sentient non-bipeds?" asked the elder. His brows drew together. "Ahhhh...yes, like the Dalingea that used to swim in our seas!"

"Beautiful singers," said Calinea.

"Wonderful poetry," said another Tillal'a'han.

"Interesting writing system," said someone else.

"Sadly, all perished in our world's last great famine," said the elder.

Nyota gasped inwardly. The destruction of a whole sentient race. One that was unique, and not bipedal like so many Federation varieties...it was strange that so many aliens looked so much like humans. "That is...so terrible..." Nyota said.

Spock bowed his head as he sipped from a tea cup.

"Yes, yes," the elder nodded sadly. "Most unfortunate."

Nyota wished the table wasn't so wide. The elder looked so forelorn. His tiny shoulders raised in a sigh. She would have reached across and taken his hand.

"Most unfortunate," the elder said again. "It is said that the Dalingea were quite delicious. I would love to have tasted one."

Spock's teacup froze. To his credit he didn't spit the tea out. Or choke.

His eyes shot over to Nyota. His body seemed to be frozen.

As was hers...but she recovered faster.

"No one is perfect...all are flawed." She shrugged.

The elder nodded in agreement. "Yes. All are flawed. Let us dance." He nodded in Spock's direction. "Or play music."

From around the table came a loud chorus of _"En-lai!"_

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Despite their religious zealotry and their inability to comprehend that non-biped creatures were worthy of being respected, or at least not eaten, the Tillal'a'hans were remarkably easy to get along with.

As the days progressed, Spock had to admit, the acquaintance of "his adopted family,"--their words, not his, of course--made his and Nyota's time on Altair 25 much more interesting.

It didn't matter if they got out of bed at 14:00; their Tillal'a'han family made sure they had access to all the historical sites and museums. They got private tours and invitations to more dinners -- the Tillal'a'hans were very interested in off-worlders who did not tell them that they needed to protest dilithium mines or to protect their natural culture and who were interested in their native language.

Happily, most of these dinners were actually smaller affairs, without belly dancing mosh pits. He and Nyota both enjoyed them. Or rather, Nyota enjoyed them. He found them fascinating.

There was the opportunity to try new food, of course, always an interesting experience.

He found their history fascinating, too. They had predicted the existence of other bipedal races before first contact. He wondered how this possibly had occurred. Of course, Nyota pointed out to him that human literature, movies, and popular culture was filled with imaginings of alien species. But humans hadn't _believed_ in aliens with the universal fervor that the Tillal'a'hans had.

Then there was their fascinating belief in a master 'seed' race. It was totally based on faith, but it was not a completely far-fetched hypothesis given how similar Vulcans and Romulans, Humans, Orions, Andorians, Bjoran, Betazeds, Trill and indeed Tillal'a'hans all were to one another. Bi-symmetrical, warm blooded and mammalian...really, it was quite extraordinary that they could be so alike after over 6 billion years of autonomous evolution.

Because of their ideas of what was natural and their faith in The Rejoining, their attitude towards Spock was unique. It was quite a change to be regarded as a natural being...not a scientific oddity. And the Tillal'a'hans considered his parents 'enlightened beings' -- which might not have been Spock's own thoughts on the matter, but it was such a sharp contrast to having one's father called a traitor and his mother, well...

In the presence of their Tillal'a'han hosts, Nyota and Spock never had to hide the fact that they were bonded. This had nothing to do with the Tillal'a'hans, really; it was more circumstance. Their relationship was technically no longer illicit in the eyes of Starfleet, and Altair 25 just happened to be the first place they'd been together since this development.

And weren't they bonded? Even if it was a tenuous, fractured bond? Even the Gray Guradsman Novasch had seen it. So in the company of the Tillal'a'hans, Spock was affectionate. This translated into finger touches -- he was Vulcan, not human. But it was a huge step for Spock, and through the touches he could tell that Nyota was thrilled.

After their first initial rough start, Nyota and Spock's next thirteen days were idyllic. Their stay was educational -- and well, the physical and emotional benefits of being with his bond mate did not need to be said.

He became too comfortable.

**A/N:**

So, since this story is just so happy and cheerful I felt compelled to write some angst -- and "The Native" was born. It's been rattling around in my head for weeks now, had to start getting it out. Its Sarek/Amanda origins. Starts with Sarek's first Pon Farr. So gut wrenching right from the start (but I have no doubt it will get humorous as well. Can't seem to help myself). If you need a little angst have a look.

If you liked and were entertained, please review! It is the only way Notes, my beta, and I get paid. And it does make those 5:30 a.m. wake ups to write before work worth it.

Thanks for reading everyone!


	10. Convergence

**Disclaimer: I don't own Spock, Nyota, Starfleet, or Giotto.  
**  
Special thanks to beta Notes from the Classroom

**Convergence**

It was their last full day together, and Spock had Nyota to himself.

By mid-morning Spock's back was a map of green gouges. He relished the idea of going into the water to feel the sting. They napped. Well, Nyota napped; he read scientific journals on a PADD while her head rested on his chest. The sixteen-hour work days and his time on Epsilon 1235 had put him sorely behind.

Late in the afternoon they began wandering up the beach.

Altair 25 had mollusk-like creatures in its seas, and like Earth's mollusks, some of them produced shells. Nyota and Spock began collecting them as they walked, Nyota because they were pretty, Spock because he found them fascinating examples of convergent evolution -- many of the creature's shells were startlingly similar to the ones of Earth. But then others were strange and seemingly impractical for the creatures' survival. All in all, fascinating opportunities for further inquiry...

...and opportunities for Nyota to tease him.

"You should have become a malacologist, Spock."

He blinked. It was a word he actually did not know. How had he skipped those lines when he read the Standard Dictionary? He began to piece together the prefix and the suffix…

"Someone who studies mollusks, Spock."

Ah. "I do find members of the phylum Mollusca to be fascinating, particularly Ariolimax californicus --"

"Banana slugs," Nyota said. "Your scientific muses. The bug that ignited your travel bug."

She was referring to a trip they had taken long ago to Muir Woods, and the fascinating denizens that lived there. The statement was true in the metaphorical sense; banana slugs -- Ariolimax californicu--had ignited his interest in exploring the wider universe beyond the lab. However--

"They are mollusks, not bugs," Spock retorted, knowing she knew this quite well, "And I am not sure an Ariolimax californicus could ever be described as a muse. A muse is a goddess --"

"Ohhh -- I'm imagining a banana slug in Greek robes on a cloud giving you come-hither looks with her eye stalks," Nyota giggled.

Humans could be so visually evocative. "Being a feminine deity would be quite impossible for A. californicus, as they are all, in fact, hermaphrodites."

"Hermaphrodites can go both ways..." Nyota retorted.

"And you are amenable to one giving me come-hither looks?" Spock responded.

"I would forgive he-she-it out of deference to her good taste..." Nyota said.

Spock stared at her.

Nyota licked her lips. "But I would want to beat his-her-its little single circuit brain in."

Spock's lips quirked. Nyota took his fingers and sent him a delicious wave of possessiveness.

They walked several kilometers, further than they'd ever been before, and found themselves near a beach town and a boardwalk. Since it was late and they were both hungry, they decided to get something to eat.

Looking around as they made their way into town, Nyota commented, "There are a lot of humans here."

Spock noticed it, too. Altair 25's islands were very popular tourist destinations, so aliens were to be expected. But even the stores and shops seemed to be run by humans. He saw a few Tillal'a'han females in the company of human males, but that was all.

There were advantages to human occupation. Scanning the menus on the doors as they walked through the little town, Spock noticed that almost every restaurant featured dishes that were vegetarian and vegan. Humans were definitely more advanced than Tillal'a'hans in this regard.

Even with their casual attire, they were able to get a seat in a nice restaurant. The food was good. The lighting low...

And Nyota began to get quiet...

"Something is wrong," Spock said.

"I'm just sad that it's our last night together," Nyota replied.

Spock tilted his head. "It is illogical to dwell on something which one cannot change."

She dropped her head to her hands. "Spock...I can't turn my emotions off and on the way you can."

Spock tilted his head. He hadn't "turned" off any emotion, actually.

Straightening herself, she sighed. "But you're right; we should try to make the most of the time we have."

They did talk through dinner. But it wasn't the easy banter it had been at the beach.

Afterwards they wandered out to the end of the boardwalk, fingers touching. Most of the restaurants were closed, but there were plenty of bars open and the walkway was still busy.

Once they got out of the halo of the lights from the commercial establishments, the walkway cleared and the stars became visible. Nyota gazed up at them and through Spock's fingers rolled her feeling of wonder...

Spock, of course, noticed stars, but the view hadn't filled him with the same emotion. They were the same stars he always viewed, simply from a different angle. But he liked receiving the feeling from her.

Leaning over the railing she said, "It's amazing to see them from someplace else. Even more than the purple trees, they remind me I'm on an alien world."

Through the link came..._awe...wonderment...curiosity..._

"Someday we'll be on the same ship up there," Nyota said.

And in their link the feeling of love joined the other emotions. It was quite acceptable. Better than acceptable.

Dropping his eyes from the stars, he turned and looked down at Nyota. A stray strand of hair was blowing across her face. His bond-mate's face. Brushing his hand lightly across her cheek, he gently pulled it back. As his fingers touched Nyota, she turned and looked up at him.

The link was so full...

Spock looked around. They were alone. It was mostly dark. He dropped his forehead to hers and very quickly applied a peck to her lips. Then his body snapped straight, seemingly of its own accord. That had been forward of him...and could hardly have been satisfying for her...He felt awkward and...

"Thank you, My Spock.." Nyota smiled wide, squeezed his fingers, and the link buzzed with happiness.

And it was all better. Taking a deep breath, he brought the fingertips to to hers and they both looked up at the stars.

"Show me where Earth is!" Nyota said, and the link buzzed with suppressed laughter. Considering the request, it seemed logical to move behind her with his chest barely touching her back...it was easier for her to see exactly which direction he was indicating when he brought his arm over her shoulder and pointed to her home world. And then Vulcan. And Orion...

By the time they began walking back towards dry land on the board walk, it was 01:00. The walkway wasn't as crowded as before, but the humans remaining were inebriated. Spock wrapped his fingers tightly around Nyota's. Perhaps he pulled her closer.

He should have expected what came next.

"Whoa!" called someone from a group of human males ahead of them. "She has got it all wrong. All wrong."

For a moment the comment didn't register with him or Nyota...the link still buzzed with happiness.

"I'm talking to you with Mr. Pointy Ears, Darlin'," the human continued.

Anger surged through the link from Nyota. She huffed. Spock was able to maintain his calm.

"If you want to do some whorin', sweetheart, you should be doin' it over here," the man said as he continued pointing at his crotch. His companions laughed.

"So fuckin' unnatural," someone said.

And suddenly Spock's calm was gone. Afraid she would see his anger he dropped his fingers from Nyota's. He stopped. Tilted his head.

"What's the matter...We scare you?" said the human.

One of his friends said, "Hey, Strider, Vulcans are pacifists."

There were about seven of them, but they were drunk. At least two of them would not be able to be effectual in any way whatsoever. The last five only barely so...

"Spock, let's go; these guys aren't worth our time," Nyota said.

Immobilized, Spock focused on the man who had been taunting them -- but he could hear the sound of halting footsteps all around. They were drawing a crowd.

"We are not opposed to violence when it is in self-defense," Spock said. It was simply a fact. For some illogical reason it gave him a thrill as it rolled smoothly off his tongue. Some part of his mind registered that he was goading the man.

"Spock...we don't need this..." Nyota said, her fingers brushing his sleeve and traveling towards his hand. He did not respond.

"He doesn't want you, sweetheart," said one of the man's companions. "But I do..."

Spock found himself stepping forward. It was almost as if his feet were agents of some other body...

The group of humans milled forward, too. Behind him he heard familiar footsteps coming fast...

"Lieutenant Commander, is there a problem, Sir?" said the voice of Ensign Singh.

Spock did not answer, nor did he turn around.

"Back off, guys. He's in Starfleet. You mess with him, you mess with all of us." It was Giotto.

There were unfamiliar murmurs of assent from behind Spock.

The men who had been facing Spock began to ease backwards. Someone in their group spit. Another went forward and grabbed the shoulder of the man who had been harassing Spock and Nyota, whispered something in his ear, and pulled him back.

There were jumbled threats made in Spock's direction. Murmurs of 'it's unnatural' and 'disgusting', but the drunken crowd began to withdraw.

This was not how it was supposed to go. He wanted to fight. Tilting his head, Spock took a step forward...and immediately felt a small, cool hand pulling him back.

Looking down, he caught Nyota's gaze. "Stress is the physiological state that results when the brain overrides the body's natural desire to rip the arms off someone who desperately deserves it," she said.

Someone laughed. Maybe it was Giotto?

"Uhura, what are you doing here?" Giotto asked. It was definitely Giotto.

Nyota did not answer; she slipped her fingers against Spock's. The link buzzed with _anger_...but mostly _concern_. How could she turn her anger off so quickly?

Spock pulled his hands behind his back, afraid she'd see just how furious he still was.

"Just visiting," Nyota replied.

Ensign Singh coughed. Spock's eyes lifted to follow the men who had insulted Nyota, his parents...him. He took a deep breath, but it brought no relief. He felt hot.

"Sir?" said Ensign Singh.

Spock turned around. He found himself facing Nyota, with her hands crossing her chest, Singh, Giotto, a woman, and five men he did not recognize.

"This is the guy we've been telling you about," said Singh with a smile, turning to the unfamiliar humans.

"He saved all our lives on Epsilon 1235, Uhura," said Giotto.

"I heard that you guys performed admirably as well," said Nyota. She turned to Singh. "I heard about a Klingon and a fire poker --"

Singh looked at his feet. "Awww...yeah, that was nothing."

The conversation swirled around Spock, but he hardly noticed. He concentrated on breathing. Nyota did the talking. They walked back into town with the group, all Starfleet personnel stationed locally, except Singh and Giotto, of course.

Neither Singh or Giotto asked any more questions about why Nyota was visiting or why she was with Spock. As Nyota and Spock departed in a hover cab, Spock could barely nod at the two men. But Nyota smiled, waved, and managed to say, "Thank you."

Spock was still boiling. He knew it was illogical, but he really had wanted to, as Nyota put it, "Rip the arms out of someone who desperately deserved it."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

They'd been seen together by Giotto and other Starfleet personnel. It could have been worse. Nyota was friends of a fashion with Giotto. There were reasons he had stuck up for her when Kirk had come on to her. He was probably smart enough, no matter what other people thought, to put two and two together and then not talk about it.

It was doubtful that Singh or the others would realize she was a cadet.

Sighing, she turned in the hover cab seat to look at Spock. He sat staring straight ahead. He would not look at her or link with her...not that she tried to initiate either. He was so angry...it ticked her off how angry he was. As an interspecies couple they were going to face things like this from time to time. They couldn't let it get to them.

When they got back to the cabin and Spock was still silent, Nyota felt her own anger rising. Or was it Spock's anger?

Taking a breath, she calmed herself. Spock stood by the window looking out at the back porch, his back turned to her.

It struck Nyota that their deriders hadn't just insulted her; they'd insulted Spock's parents...and Spock. They had said an interspecies couple was unnatural and disgusting...then what did that say about their thoughts about the child of such a couple?

Did Spock think he was unnatural?

Yes. Or at least, he felt like he didn't fit. He wasn't really human -- obviously. And she remembered the mind meld she'd experienced with him when they'd tried to bond. She remembered the fight with...bullies? Remembered the board of the Vulcan Science Academy...

He wasn't fully Vulcan. The Vulcans she had met--Tyback, T'Lan, the Interspecies Council, and a few others -- their lips did not quirk. Their eyebrows did not rise. They didn't lash out with their fists -- or their mouths.

Spock had Vulcan emotions...but not their control.

Nyota walked over to the window and put her body in front of Spock's.

Spock looked down at her but said nothing. Moving her hands to his chin, she whispered, "Hey, come back to me."

She brought her hands up to trace the outline of his ears. He had long since ceased being alien to her, even the pointy ears -- they were just a feature now, like eye or hair color would be on a human.

"Two auditory orifices and pinnae located laterally on the skull," she murmured. "It is so strange..."

"What is so strange, Nyota?"

She nearly drew back at the sound. His words had...venom...behind them. She would not be cowed.

"That after over six billion years of evolution we are nearly identical," she replied. And their ears were nearly identical...if you factored in six billion years of being apart. Nyota traced his eyebrows with her thumbs. "And eyebrows...why do we even have eyebrows? Maybe in humans they help convey emotion, but in Vulcans..."

He lifted an eyebrow, probably unconsciously, as he considered her words.

She smiled, "...well, they may convey emotion in Vulcan hybrids as well." Tracing the other features of his face she commented, "Two bi-symmetrical eyes, a nose, a mouth -- with lips..."

Dragging her fingers down his chest she continued. "Pectoral muscles." Grazing his nipples she added, "Vestigial mammary glands in the male..."

Spock shivered. "What is your point, Nyota?"

"I think the Tillal'a'hans have it right. Maybe we are all simply varieties of some seed race...after over six billion years, it is inconceivable that we should be so similar, even with convergent evolution. Maybe we are meant to combine..."

"You accept this philosophy from a race that eats sentient creatures for the crime of being non-bipedal?" Spock asked.

Nyota pulled out the big guns. "That is an ad hominem fallacy, Spock, and therefore illogical."

He blinked. "Other members of both our species do not share the Tillal'a'han's philosophy."

"All are flawed," Nyota said running her hands in circles over his abs. "On ancient Terra, interracial couples took heat. We'll get it, too; that doesn't mean our relationship is disgusting or unnatural."

"Human interracial couples did not need the assistance of a laboratory to conceive," Spock said.

He was in a black mood.

"Spock, after six billion years of evolution, it is amazing that humans and Vulcan DNA could be combined at all. That they can be..." she shrugged, smiled. "You are the perfect blend of technology and biology."

Spock's hands went to her hips. His forehead fell gently on hers.

"You're perfect, Spock." She ran her fingers along the front seam of his pants, felt him begin to respond. "And after six billion years of separate evolution, despite all of our differences..." She smiled. "We fit. Perfectly."

FIN!

A/N:  
For the record, I don't think Spock and Nyota will need a laboratory to have kids, but Spock's parents did. (If you're going to the trouble to create a hybrid/make him fertile – right?)

Also, I think there was a TNG episode with a seed race (?) Really, there has to be a reason for so many bipedal creatueres!

Another Spock/Nyota actionish story coming soon (maybe...but with more Nyota this time. There's a scene with Jabari I really, really, really want to write.) I have a short one-shot crack piece with Spock/Number One coming up (I think crack is the word for just really funny? Not sure).

Also, been writing "The Native" about Sarek and Amanda -- please check it out. The two chapters up now are angsty, but it will start lightening up next installment, promise. (And then be angsty/romatic and humorous).

Please leave a review if you were entertained. It really keeps me going.

Thanks everyone!


End file.
